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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



The Self: What is It? 



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By J. S. MALONE. 



WACO, TEXAS. 




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LOUISVILLE: 
JOHN P. MOETON AND COMPANY. 

1888 






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By J. S. MALONE. 

1889 



INDEX 



PART I— SENSIBILITY. 

Chapter I. Happiness is Peedicable of Sen- 
sibility, 5 

Chapter IL Causal Energy is Predicable of 

Sensibility, 9 

Chapter III. The Same, Continued, .... 17 

Chapter IV. Responsibility is Predicable of 

Sensibility, 24 

Conclusion to Part I, . . 32 

PART II— INTELLIGENCE. 

Chapter I. Objects of Intelligence Divided 

into Two Classes, . 39 

Chapter II. The Same, Continued, .... 49 
Chapter III. Solution of Contradictions, . . 58 
Chapter IV. Intuitive or Sense Cognition, . 71 
Chapter V. Discursive or Intellectual Cog- 
nition, 85 

Chapter VI. A Notice of Kant's Doctrines, . 101 

Chapter VII. Fragments, 136 

Conclusion to Part II, 143 



Part I — Sensibility. 



CHAPTER I. 



Happiness is Predicable of Sensibility and not of 
Intellect. 

According to common usage the human mind may be 
regarded as consisting of two general parts or spheres, 
viz: Thinking and Feeling. The first, or thinking 
sphere, is variously called understanding, reason, intel- 
lect, thought, brain, etc., according to the occasion ; 
while the second, or feeling sphere, is variously called 
feeling, sense, sensibility, heart, etc., also according to 
the needs of the particular occasion. 

It will be hard to find in our language two antithet- 
ical terms properly suited, in all instances, for distin- 
guishing between these two dissimilar aspects of mind. 
For present purposes it may hence be well to adopt 
the one word intellect to represent the thinking, and the 
one word sensibility to represent the feeling sphere of the 
mind. Perhaps two other words better suited might be 
found, but these two are sufficiently intelligible at least; 
and as for the rest, to adopt them at once will avoid the 
delay of long definitions. 

The object in referring to this division of the mind 
into intellect and sensibility, is to prepare the way for 
the following three most significant propositions : (1) The 
ultimate end of existence, (2) causal energy, (3) moral 

2 



6 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 

responsibility are each predicable of sensibility and not 
of intellect. 

If these three propositions be true, even in a liberally 
qualified sense, then the consequences must be most mo- 
mentous when viewed from a philosphical standpoint. 
Take away these characteristics, viz : (1) The end of ex- 
istence, (2) causal energy, and (3) moral responsibility 
from the mind, and the question arises, what then of any 
worth or dignity remains to hnman character? 

With regard to the first proposition, the illustrious 
Kant tells us that all human desire converges on happi- 
ness as the final end of existence. But Kant was a great 
and good man, and hence, after this statement, made 
haste to qualify it by saying that we must not seek hap- 
piness directly in the sense of reward, nor regard it as a 
rule of moral conduct. Instead, we must do right for 
right^s own sake ; must seek happiness not for its own 
sake, but rather seek to become worthy of happiness. 

Carlyle also discards the happiness theory, and holds 
that there is something above happiness, which he calls 
blessedness. What he precisely means by blessedness we 
may not know, though doubtless his meaning is not far 
removed from that of Kant. That the latter has not, at 
all events, placed the mark too high, is quite obvious. 
A good man will not only sacrifice present happiness, 
but even life itself in vindicating his moral integrity, 
thus showing unequivocally that he values the latter 
above the former. Indeed, any man worthy the name of 
man will always prefer death to dishonor. 

But, however important this question may be, it can 
be discussed with more propriety by and by ; for it is not 
strictly pertinent at this point. Instead, the present ob- 



THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 7 

ject is to note this one fact: that whatever the final end 
of existence may be, as looked at from a human point of 
view — whether it be happiness, or moral excellence, or 
blessedness, or otherwise — it is quite plain that said end 
must be predicable of sensibility only, and not of in- 
tellect. 

It is not denied that intelligence to a certain extent 
is implied in the conceptions of happiness, moral excel- 
lence, etc.; but it is denied that intellectuality can in any 
degree be assumed as an essential factor of such concep- 
tions. As we proceed and study this subject carefully, it 
will become quite obvious that intellect can in no case be 
regarded as an end : it can only be a means to an end, 
and hence can not be reckoned as a factor in that great 
end which represents the sum total of human interests. 
Whereas, if we accept either conception above indicated, 
or any other reasonably conceivable one as representing 
the end of existence, it will be found in all cases that such 
conception involves certain states, conditions, or develop- 
ment of sensibility, as an essential factor — as indeed 
being the very end itself. This is only saying that hap- 
piness, blessedness, etc., are words which represent cer- 
tain states of sensibility only, and not processes of intel- 
lect. They are predicates of feeling, and not of thinking; 
we can realize happiness in feeling, not in thinking. 

Should any doubt or ambiguity still attach to this 
first proposition, it may be more easily cleared up in an 
examination of the other two ; for though this first in 
some sort includes the other two — inasmuch as it repre- 
sents all of our permanent and final interests in one 
word — yet the second and third, being more specific, 
bring out more clearly and render more accessible all 



8 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 

the serious perplexities attaching to either of the three. 
For this, as well as for other reasons, the first proposition, 
though inclusive of, is only intended to pave the way to 
the second and third, which may be examined more elabo- 
rately in the several following chapters. 



THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 



CHAPTER II. 

Causal Energy is Predicable of Sensibility and not of 
Intellect. The Latter can Only Act as it is Acted on 
BY the Former. 

We can not with philosophical propriety debate the 
question of moral responsibility : it is too self-evident to 
debate. Its deeply rooted hold on consciousness is felt 
with such intensity as to render it one of the most posi- 
tive certainties of mind. We can not rid ourselves of it 
any more than of our shadows. A few people may deny 
it in theory, but even they, in common with others, be- 
lieve it in their hearts; at any rate, they are necessitated 
to practice it in their lives. All family, social, moral, 
civil — all conceivable human conventionalities spring 
out of and depend upon it ; insomuch that otherwise no 
two men would dare to meet on the highway, unless on 
the footing of wild beasts. It is taken for granted in all 
we think, say, or do. To debate it, we unconsciously 
assume it, fully as much as would be the case in debating 
the reality of existence itself. If we can not with pro- 
priety debate the reality of existence, neither can we 
debate the truth of moral responsibility; that is, we can 
not do so without virtually repudiating the validity of 
mind, and which would amount to nothing less than 
philosophical suicide. 

But the question of moral responsibility belongs to a 
future chapter. It is here anticipated, simply because it 
is the shortest and clearest method of showing up human 
causality. Responsibility presupposes causal energy ; 



10 THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 

4 

that is, presupposes a spontaneous activity which can do 
or not do, according to discretion in any given case ; for 
otherwise there could be no such thing as responsibility. 
That responsibility is by universal consent called morale 
and therefore presumably grounded in sensibility, is a 
question to be examined in its proper place. 

The questions for this chapter are these : (1) Besides 
moral phenomena — that is, besides the causal activity 
exhibited by the moral sense or conscience — there are 
still other manifestations of such activity. This is evi- 
dent from the fact, that, though the moral sense is or at 
least ought to be the supreme authority of mind, it is 
yet often disobeyed and set at defiance. Now, to say 
nothing about the freedom and intelligence attaching to 
conscience, it is difficult to conceive how it could be thus 
check-mated by any other power of the mind, unless we 
allow this other power to be endowed at least with causal 
activity. It is not claimed that its causality is either the 
same or that it is different in origin from that of con- 
science ; nor that it is endowed with freedom or other- 
wise ; but simply that it is endowed at least with causal 
activity, else it could by no possibility revolt against 
conscience. 

Seeing then that the mind gives indications of other 
causality than that strictly attaching to conscience, the 
next and main question is : (2) Where does said causal- 
ity originate? Or, if you choose, take the question in 
its broadest and most universal sense : Where does all 
human causality originate — that is, whether in intellect, 
or in sensibility, or in both ? Of course it is understood 
that human causality, as well as all other things, is pri- 
marily derived from the great First Cause of the universe. 



THE 8ELF: WHAT IS IT ? 11 

This is a difficult question, and one perhaps which can 
never be answered with absolute fullness and precision ; 
yet, doubtless, an earnest and diligent inquiry will enable 
each thouglitful mind to reach results altogether satis- 
factory to itself 

Power, force, energy, or whatever else you may choose 
to call it, must be fully as passive as dead matter, when 
considered in relation to causal activity. Energy in its 
primitive sense can be nothing but itself; that is, it is 
simply energy, power, potentiality. It can not be both 
itself and at the same time something else external to 
itself, which prompts itself to activity. 

But we are in search of a causal activity. Without 
doubt there is such a thing; the phenomena of mind 
give exhibitions of it every moment of our waking lives. 
What is causal energy? 

While we may know nothing of its ultimate essence, 
we do know positively the essential traits presupposed in 
its conception. Besides being simple energy, it must in 
addition be a spontaneous or- self-motive energy ; not 
only a power to act, but a power which can prompt itself 
to action — both instrumental and primal power in one. 
Its acting must be a prompting and its prompting an act- 
ing, both in one. 

We may search throughout the entire realm of thought 
without finding any thing answerable to these require- 
ments, except in the sphere of sensibility. The one 
word Desire, if taken in a generic sense, including will, 
wish, appetite, emotion, affection — including the entire 
sphere of sensibility — becomes a perfect personification 
of causal energy. 

Desire is something which acts in itself, for itself, and 



12 THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 

meanwhile prompts itself to action. Taken in any of the 
varied aspects above indicated, it is both a noun and a 
verb. As a noun it can not be defined without making 
it a verb; as a verb it can not be defined without mak- 
ing it a noun. Its conception involves act, activity, and 
actor all in one — a sort of trinity in unity. Its activity 
begins, continues, and ends with its existence; its exist- 
ence begins, continues, and ends with its activity. Its 
existence and self-motive activity are identical. 

Even with regard to God, we can not conceive of his 
intelligence otherwise than as a mere instrument, where- 
with to realize the purposes of his divine sensibilities, 
which latter represent the true and primal cause. His 
intelligence, like that of man, can not be other than a 
mere instrument and not a cause. Throughout the sa- 
cred Scriptures he is universally represented as being 
prompted by mercy, love, or some such sensibility, in 
his varied relations and manifestations to man; the in- 
stances are too frequent and familiar to be specified. 

Students need not be reminded that the great master 
Plato regarded self-motion as the highest characteristic 
of God by way of distinction to all else. Plato may not 
have made self-motion and sensibility identical in so 
many words, but it was equivalent thereto. Both he and 
his immediate disciples taught that the One and the Good 
are the same and the primal cause of all things; that 
intellect came after and was originated by the One and 
the Good. 

Take this remarkable passage, found in one of the 
Yedas : ^' The One lay void, wrapped in nothingness ; It 
(the One) was developed by the power ol fervor ; desire 
first arose in it, which was the primal germ of mind; 



THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 13 

sages, searching in their intellect, have discovered in their 
heart the bond which connects entity with non-entity.^' 

As regards other and later authorities, no others are 
remembered who have devoted special attention to this 
specific question. Quite a number, and the German 
philosophers among the number, have touched it indi- 
rectly, as might be said ; and it must be admitted that 
a majority of those so doing — though not in a specific 
way — have at least implicitly assumed just the reverse 
of the position here taken. But it is not admissible to 
hold an author responsible, much less to quote him as 
authority on a question not specially studied, and one too 
which might have been assumed only in an incidental 
way, while pursuing another and quite different line of 
thought. Fichte, perhaps, has written more than any 
other German about spontaneous activity of mind, but 
does not ascribe it particularly either to sense or intel- 
lect. Something similar, as regards relevancy to the 
present question, may be said of Kant, Schelling, Hegel, 
etc. And here it may be noted that the word Desire has 
been employed in preference to that of Will; the latter 
does not at all convey the meaning intended ; and be- 
sides, it has been so variously and equivocally employed 
by different writers as to render it wholly unfit for pres- 
ent purposes. 

To return, it is assumed accordingly that each of our 
primitive desires or sensibilities is a distinct causal ac- 
tivity in itself. It would likewise follow that dumb 
brutes are also similarly endowed, else they would be 
incapable of spontaneous action. Indeed, we may grant 
causal activity to vegetation, as well as to all other mani- 
festations of life, at least in so far as such life may be 



14 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 

allowed to involve the principle of desire. In truth, 
can we better define that mysterious something called 
vital force, than to call it a simple desire for existence ? 

To be sure, we must distinguish between causal activ- 
ity, free activity, moral quality, etc., which two latter 
belong only to our moral economy. Because desire — 
whether desire of man, or brute, or vegetable — is en- 
dowed with causal activity, it does not follow that said 
activity is either free or morally endowed. It does not 
follow that desire, though prompting itself in any given 
case, is thenceforward free to act in any direction and to 
any extent it may choose. Indeed, it has no choice ; for 
even its self-prompting is a necessary law of its own con- 
stitution. As for the rest, human desire is under moral 
law, which includes causality, freedom, and moral qual- 
ity all, while brute and vegetable desire are under natu- 
ral law, as it may ber called in distinction to the former. 

It follows then, however, that desire taken in the gen- 
eral sense already indicated is a self-mover^ and as such 
is the only force known to us which can personate and 
explain causal activity. Neither gravitation nor elec- 
tricity, nor any other known force can act until some- 
thing exterior to itself first excites and draws out its 
activity. Whereas, desire — though often excited by 
exterior objects near at hand — is characterized by the 
fact that it acts in and of itself independently of all for- 
eign influence. All desire, such for example as hunger, 
thirst, avarice, vanity, ambition, benevolence, love — all, 
from the least up to the greatest — can and constantly 
does act antecedently to and independently of a special 
exterior object. Indeed, the whole life and death strug- 
gle of most persons, considered as an abstract aggregate, 



THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 15 

is bat a desiring of some remote and indefinite thing 
which they may never see nor realize, nor even conceive 
of distinctly. 

It is the mistake of confounding interior desire with 
exterior object — causality with instrumentality — which 
leads some thoughtless people to fall into fatalism. The 
child does not seek the orange for the sake of the orange, 
but for the sake of its own appetite. The orange is mere 
instrument j the appetite is the real cause, and would 
have existed all the same even in the absence of the or- 
ange. In no event should an exterior instrument — often 
miscalled motive — be confounded with the interior cause, 
for in so doing mind is deprived of its causality and put 
on a level with gravitation and other like natural, or 
rather dead forces, as they might be called in contrast to 
those of mind. 

It does not mend the matter for the materialist to say, 
that while natural forces require the presence of exterior 
objects as prompters to activity, desire on the other hand 
requires the absence or want of said objects, and that 
therefore the two are in some sort in the same category. 
This objection suggests too much, for while desire can 
not exist, nor be defined, nor be conceived of except as a 
spontaneous activity, yet the meaning and very essence 
of this activity is an absence or want of object, thus im- 
plying not only priority to object, but suggesting why 
its craving might hereby mount up into creative energy 
as a means of realizing its object. But creative energy 
gives us the very highest conception of causality. In 
short, causality implies creative or self-motive energy, 
and desire is the only self-mover conceivable to the 
human mind. 



16 THE SELF: WHAT IS IT ? 

The foregoing reflections wholly preclude the claims 
of intellect to causal activity, yet there are certain minds 
which are accustomed to regard intellect as the great 
controlling influence of the world, in practical respects at 
least, and it may hence be well to add another chapter 
in order to examine the claims of intellect. 



THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 17 

CHAPTER III. 

The Same, Continued. 

Doubtless it is admitted on all hands, that primal cau- 
sality implies a self-impelling or dual power, as it might 
be called, in distinction to simple potentiality. It is 
again equally as evident that intellect, being a single 
power, needs something exterior to itself to move it to 
action. According to all competent authority, as in fact 
any thoughtful mind can see for itself, intellect implies 
pure intelligence or cognition, and as such, being left 
alone, would be as motionless as a marble statute. It 
has no feeling, no passion, no desire or other sense to be 
gratified and hence is powerless to move until something 
exterior moves it. How could it act, or why should it 
act, without desire or some such motive to move it? 

In spite of the self-evident facts, however, we do nev- 
ertheless often endow it with causality ; but this again 
results from still another mistake antecedent to the first, 
viz., the mistake of endowing it, perhaps inadvertently, 
with sense in the outset, thus proving that we intui- 
tively, though unconsciously recognize sense as the only 
mind-motor. Thus we often speak of ^' intellectual pleas- 
ure" or "love of knowledge," thereby virtually assum- 
ing that intellect can/eeZ such emotions as love or pleas- 
ure. Of course sense, and sense only, can prompt to a 
pursuit of knowledge, as it must do in all other cases. 
Moral, religious, philosophical, esthetic, and other like 
interests of sense actuate a large number. Another 
large class seek knowledge as an instrument to position, 



18 THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 

wealth, fame, etc. Many seek it from vanity, for the 
name of it, and still others from ennui, curiosity, love 
of novelty, etc., so that even knowledge, which repre- 
sents the sum total of intellectual achievement, is not 
sought for its own sake, but as an instrument for some 
one or other sensibility. 

The most serious and general cause of illusion in this 
question results from not distinguishing sharply between 
sense and intellect in respect to the conceptions, cause, 
and instrument. It has already been stated that a fail- 
ure to so distinguish between interior cause and exterior 
object results in fatalism ; in the present instance the 
result is rationalism. 

In perhaps nearly every action or event of life, sense 
and intellect are co-actors. Their actions are so inti- 
mate, so complex, and often so nearly simultaneous as to 
seem identical. In case of an apparent difference, the 
advantage usually seems to be in favor of intellect. This 
is because, in operating by means of the physical body 
on exterior objects, its achievements are thereby ren- 
dered the more conspicuous, as, for instance, in the case 
of a machine or other invention. Intellect being the 
builder, is recognized by the thoughtless as the cause of 
the machine also; while, in truth, pleasure, pecuniary 
profit, or other incentive of sense is the first and true 
cause. Intellect sustains the same relation to sense in 
the transaction that the physical body does to the intel- 
lect, viz., the relation of secondary cause, or, more prop- 
erly, that of instrument. So in every case, if the search 
be extended back carefully to the fountain-head, sense 
will always turn out to be the cause and intellect to be 
the instrument. 



THE SEI.F : WHAT IS IT? 19 

But another and perhaps more decisive view of the 
same conception may be had from a somewhat different 
standpoint. In one respect every individual thing in 
existence must come under one or the other of these two 
categories : (1) Either it is a thing in itself and for itself, 
or (2) it is a thing intended for the behoof of something 
other than itself In the first instance it is called subject, 
cause, end, etc., and is the only thing which can properly 
claim to be a Self or Ego. In the second instance it is 
called object, instrument, means, etc., but it can never 
aspire to self-hood. Now, twist and strain our concep- 
tion of intellect to the last degree, yet it can never be 
put in the first category, no more than we can conceive 
of a compass needle intended to guide itself, or a lamp 
intended to light up a path for itself Having no wants 
of its own, why should cold, passionless intellect need 
an instrument? Or, having the whole world, how use it? 

Most certainly intellect is endowed with wonderful 
energy ; but it is a simple or mechanical energy, as we 
call that of the physical body, and never mounts up to 
causal efficiency. At times w^hen the senses are at com- 
parative rest, and have no special wants to be gratified, 
the intellect may trip along in an automatic pace — as in 
the association of ideas — and, meanwhile, give rise to a 
series of contingent causes and effects; but such series 
contains no vestige of spontaneous causality ; it is an 
aimless and purely mechanical activity. 

Intellect is almost incessantly occupied in showing 
dangers to be avoided, advantages to be used, and other- 
wise seeming to control our lives in an efficient or causal 
sense, but it proves a mistake on closer inspection. The 
lantern taken in hand as a guide down-town after dark 



20 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 

shows the harmful places to be avoided, the best pave- 
ments to follow^ and possibly^ by showing a bridge 
destroyed by a late rain, thereby causes a change in the 
route, and thus apparently saves your life. It doubtless 
does, but only in an instrumental sense. Some domestic 
want started you out in the first instance, and, being 
once started, a desire to avoid hurt or damage was the 
efficient, controlling guide thereafter. 

But that intellectual process called reflection is re- 
garded as one of the most powerful influences upon 
human conduct, sometimes changing even the whole 
drift of one's life. So, and to the same extent, might 
the intelligence brought in a letter by the carrier-boy; 
but no one would regard the carrier, the letter, or the 
intelligence as prime cause in so serious a result. Some 
one or more sensibilities that may have been aroused by 
the intelligence indicate the efficient mainspring in this 
case. And it may be noted in this connection : that, 
very often when we imagine ourselves delayed by reflec- 
tion regarding some enterprise on hand, we are in reality 
only delayed by a struggle going on between two or 
more sensibilities which may be interested in said enter- 
prise. Thus, a new residence is to be builded ; but be- 
fore a satisfactory design can be selected there is econ- 
omy, vanity, taste, together with the influence of family 
and friends, each making suggestions on the subject, so 
that, after several weeks or months of thorough reflec- 
tion, as we imagine it to be, a design is finally adopted. 

But even in the case of real intellectual reflection, 
the said reflection itself results directly from antecedent 
dictates of sense. This is evident from the fact that we 
never reflect at all, except about that in which sense is 



THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 21 

most interested at the particular time. Wherever and 
whenever sense is interested, there and then is reflection 
at work — never anywhere else. Reflection follows sense 
like a shadow; and how can it else, being at most only a 
torch-bearer or compass. 

A mo.«t remarkable illusion is suggested by this word 
reflection, and one which ought to open the eyes of all 
who have not thought attentively on the subject. In 
trying to find out the mainspring of other people's ac- 
tions — of every action, whether great or small, and of 
every individual, whether friend or foe — we invariably 
go straight to sense in order to get the true motive; but 
as for myself, on the contrary, I always act from sober 
reflection; other people are actuated by sense impulses; 
I am actuated by reason. This singular illusion is 
doubtless a kind and beneficent providence. If we 
could always see ourselves as others see us, it would go 
far toward the disintegration of society. We would sim- 
ply be ashamed to meet in social life. 

The truth is, that the real Ego of human character is 
a much more reserved, or, as might be said, a much 
more august personage than is usually supposed. Going 
abroad so rarely, he is hardly recognized by tlie nearest 
neighbors; and when abroad at mid-day even, is more 
likely than otherwise to be overlooked among his showy 
and oflicious attendants. Theje are certain places, how- 
ever, where he may be seen with such positive distinct- 
ness as to leave no doubt about his identity — for instance 
in history. 

Consider the countless millions in history who have 
sacrificed life for the sake of moral, social, patriotic, 
religious, and kindred sentiments; but where is to be 

3 



22 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 

found one single martyr for intellectual opinion? Not 
even Galileo can answer the call. 

It is not extravagant to assume that every man and 
woman of an average moral character would give up life 
sooner than sacrifice certain principles, loves, hopes, etc., 
growing out of sense. Quite a large majority of men 
will die on the score of patriotism, for example; that is, 
patriotism as a starting influence — aided by the fear of 
disgrace on the ground of cowardice, with perhaps still 
other conspiring sensibilities — will nerve a large major- 
ity of men to meet death on the battle-field. 

Debauchees generally, and even thieves, among whom 
there is said to be honor, when outraged to a certain de- 
gree in their feelings, will rush to death in personal com- 
bat. This only show^s that sense, in its lowest as well as 
its highest aspects, is the Ego, and a Spartan sort of Ego 
too, who will not surrender even in death. It may some- 
times be difficult to find out a man^s special love, hope, 
ruling sentiment, his treasure; but only keep up the 
search and it will be found. Hedge the way here! 
Drive him back yonder! and thus persistently thwarted, 
he will presently retreat to the spot where his treasure 
lies concealed. And, mark it, right there by that treas- 
ure is a hero who will die hard sooner than budge one 
inch. Whereas, for mere intellectual opinions, perhaps 
no one of either class just enumerated would turn on the 
heel ; and right enough too, seeing that such opinions 
are a little cheaper than dirt in all the markets of the 
world. Sometimes an intellectual conflict may be the 
means of inflaming sense, and in such event serious 
results may follow. But in such case it is an issue of 
sense, and but confirms the above. 



THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 23 

It may be noted, as looking somewhat in the same 
direction, that men are ever quick to exchange defective 
physical organs for artificial ones. Many will even ex- 
change the natural color of hair, complexion, etc., for 
others of an artificial kind. Were such a thing only 
possible, they would not only exchange the physical 
body with its organs, but the intellect with its contents, 
if they could be altogether certain of a good bargain in 
the transaction. But, on the other hand, there is not a 
beggar in the world who would exchange the sacred 
treasures of his heart with the greatest king. Without 
these, even heaven would not be good enough, nor im- 
mortality long enough ; and for the very good reason, 
that to forfeit these would be to forfeit himself. And 
thus again we are brought face to face with the fact, that 
Self, Ego, and sensibility are but one and the same thing. 
Descartes would have been nearer the mark, if he had 
said: ^^I feel, therefore I am, 'instead of saying; ^' I 
think,^^ etc. 

The importance of this question will justify any 
amount of painstaking investigation on the part of those 
who may not be fully determined about it ; the conse- 
quences flowing from it will be seen to grow in magni- 
tude as we proceed ; and hence, as a sort of summary of 
the foregoing, take the following in a nutshell and as a 
sufficient test to work on at leisure : 

Find one voluntary human action, that can be traced 
back to intellect as its primal cause ; or conversely, one 
such action, that can not be traced back to sense as its 
primal cause. 



24 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 



CHAPTER IV. 

Responsibility is Predicable of Sensibility and not of 
Intellect. 

It has already been taken for granted that responsi- 
bility, being an assumption of universal mind, is too self- 
evident to debate. Yet there are those who even chal- 
lenge this universal verdict, insinuating that it may be a 
mere dream or illusion of mind. To allow universal 
illusion, and that too respecting a question of such infi- 
nite moment, would be to baulk universal debate. None 
but philosophical outlaws could muster temerity enough 
for proclaiming such a challenge. 

Responsibility must be absolutely granted, else all 
debate must stop short. Being granted, the first inquiry 
is, where is it located — in sense or in intellect? This 
inquiry has been virtually answered in the two preceding 
chapters. 

(1) Responsibility implies causal activity, which we 
have seen exists only in the sphere of sense. (2) It im- 
plies free activity, which, in presupposing causal activity, 
is also restricted to sense. (3) It implies moral quality, 
which is inconceivable except as grounded on causality 
and freedom ; and hence, along with the two latter, is 
also restricted to sense. Remember also the additional 
and sufficient fact, that by common consent we say moral 
sense and moral responsibility, thus recognizing moral 
quality as belonging to sense. In short, the only re- 
maining point of interest is, to investigate that particu- 



THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 25 

lar aspect of intelligence which attaches to moral respon- 
sibility. 

To avoid what might perhaps after a while seem in- 
congruous, as well as for the sake of brevity and per- 
spicuity, the word intellect has been employed so far to 
represent the entire sphere of intelligence. So far, too, 
the one word has been fully sufficient ; for whatever has - 
been ascribed to it respecting causality, applies with equal 
truth to all species of intelligence; all intelligence is in- 
strumental only. But the point now reached requires a 
distinction which can not, however, be fully elaborated 
until reaching Part II. For present purposes it will 
suffice to call the other intuitive intelligence, in distinc- 
tion to that of a discursive intellect. By intuitive 
intelligence is meant that kind which sees and knows 
intuitively, without any discursive or measuring process ; 
it is much the same with what Kant calls sense intuition^ 
except that its sphere will be extended beyond the com- 
pass of the latter after a while. 

But coming to the question now to be examined re- 
garding the kind of intelligence required as an element 
in responsibility, it may be said, that in no age or coun- 
try has jurisprudence recognized intellect as in any degree 
morally responsible For a civil tribunal to arraign and 
punish a man on the ground of no matter what intel- 
lectual failing, would be both new and astonishing to a 
high degree. Pity alone, and not censure, can be the 
award of intellectual short-coming ; insomuch, that in- 
tellect sinks even beneath criticism in the matter of 
moral responsibility. Yet, replies the rationalist, though 
irresponsible in itself, why may not intellect supply all 
the light that might be needed by the moral sense? But 



26 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 

it would be quite remarkable for the moral sense — which 
we have seen to be so highly endowed for its special office 
in all other respects and meanwhile represents our high- 
est interests — to have need of borrowing its light from 
so irresponsible a source as that of intellect; especially 
so, since, even allowing it to so borrow, the chief purpose 
of the latter light is to trace out the principle of cause 
and consequences, while that of conscience is to lead to 
the morally right for its own sake absolutely, regardless 
of consequences. The two species of intelligence are 
essentially unlike; the one wanders zig-zagging through 
brambles on a cold trail, the other bounds forward after 
the game in full sight ; the former is discu7^sive, the lat- 
ter is intuitive intelligence. 

It would be equally as remarkable — seeing that ev- 
ery, the meanest organ of the body and attribute of the 
mind, is fully equipped in and of itself for all its essen- 
tial functions — to assume that conscience alone is left 
dependent; dependent on intellect for its light. Instead, 
common sense would say without hesitation that, inas- 
much as responsibility is the highest aspect of human 
character, and conscience is the highest aspect of respon- 
sibility, then conscience ought to lead all, and in leading 
all — no matter what the facts may be — at any rate, 
conscience ought to have the brightest torch of all. 

Consider that brilliant and fascinating intelligence 
manifested by the sense called taste, as in architecture 
for example. Respecting the beauty, stateliness, and 
other high features of the building, taste, which is a 
sense only, is the master architect. To be sure, intellect 
is also employed in the structure ; but it is employed 
only as a hodman, or in other like drudgery, and work- 



THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 27 

ing too Luider the supervision of taste in the meanwhile. 
There could be no borrowing of light in this case ; or 
granting otherwise, intellect and not sense would have 
the need to borrow. 

Each of our mental attributes, however low or trite, 
is endowed fully for all its essential duties. Take, for 
example, that sense attaching to what is commonly known 
as the palate ; and here we find an intelligence which 
can perceive, distinguish, judge, and select for itself in 
the matter of food and drink better than any other pos- 
sible intelligence could do for it. Intellect in the mean 
time standing aloof may reason in its fashion too, but 
can not enter into the real merits of such process ; it can 
not realize the sensations sweet, bitter, or acid on the 
one hand, nor can it, on the other, influence the palate to 
like this or that. 

Neither can any exception be made of dumb brutes 
in this respect. Such an animal, though but a few days 
old, being once punished, will thereafter take to flight 
at the first sight of a rod in hand. Such flight implies 
the knowledge that like causes will produce like effects ; 
but we could not allow such knowledge to a brute. The 
only alternative is to grant an intuitive intelligence to its 
sense of fear, which is fully suflicient for its needs, and 
whereby, perceiving danger, it takes to flight. 

It does not change results for the rationalist to reply, 
that these several instances are but manifestations of 
blind instinct. What better can be said for intellect, 
until by experience it becomes able to turn about and 
contemplate itself? Until then, at least, intellect in all 
its processes operates without the consent and knowledge 
of itself fully as much as the blood circulates without 



28 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 

the consent of the body ; and, in so far, is on the same 
footing with blind instinct; that is, it acts blindly, with- 
out knowing why or how. Though it often does not, 
yet allowing it to attain self-knowledge, still it is ever 
liable to err and go astray ; whereas these instincts are 
comparatively infallible. 

Without multiplying other instances, these suffice to 
show that the mind has intuitive as well as discursive 
intelligence ; that in some cases — as in that of taste — the 
intuitive can see further and higher than the discursive ; 
and that each sense, however trite, has an intuition equal 
to all its wants. Then, how can we make an exception of 
conscience, the highest and most important sense of all ? 

The only objection worth notice, an objection in 
appearance only, is quite misleading. Why are insane 
people always irresponsible? thus virtually assuming 
that the absence of intellect is equivalent to an absence 
of responsibility. Instead, so far as known with cer- 
tainty, and doubtless to the full extf^nt if it were possible 
to know, insanity results from diseased sensibility; so 
that derangement of intellect is but an accompanying 
result with and not a cause of irresponsibility. Until it 
is demonstrated — in spite too of universal jurisprudence 
and the drift of ethical teaching both — that intellect is 
the essential cause or ground of responsibility, it will 
remain a logical impossibility to show that its absence is 
the cause of irresponsibility. Like the physical body, 
it may be an indirect or secondary cause conducing to 
insanity ; but not a prime cause by any means. If its 
presence be not the prime cause of responsibility, in the 
first place, its absence can not be the prime cause of m'e- 
sponsibility in the second ; it is logically impossible. 



THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 29 

But granting that conscience has no intelligence of 
its own, yet see the absurd paradox of assuming that 
intellect can instruct it to any extent whatever ; for if 
conscience be not endowed with intelligence in the first 
place, how could it understand the discursive rigmaroles 
of intellect? and if sufficiently endowed to understand 
intellect, why not likewise be so endowed for its own 
peculiar functions ? The same question may be asked 
respecting all the lower senses ; for, if sense be void of 
intelligence, it could not understand, much less con- 
form to the dictates of intellect, and hereby there could 
be no intellectualizing of sense, or rationalism, as we 
say. 

But rationalism has ever been one of the most harm- 
ful tendencies of mind ; and, though not identical with 
materialism, yet but for it there evidently could be no 
such thing as materialism. The very moment intellect 
transcends its limits as a simple instrument of mind and 
begins dictating in the essential functions of sense, that 
moment a harmful blight sets in. It has no mite of 
capacity to dictate as to what ought to be a beautiful 
landscape for the eye, or melodious sounds for the ear, 
or fragrant odors for the nostril ; nor should it have, 
seeing that each of these senses is adequately endowed 
for its own special purposes. But let these, along with 
love, philanthropy, patriotism, and all the other senses, 
be subjugated to the control of intellect, and the result 
could only be cold, mercenary, and ruinous to the last 
degree. To thus supersede sense would be to baulk 
nature and turn the world into a desert. The facts are 
undeniable. If then each sense, however trite, be fully 
endowed in itself, and ought, at least as regards intellect, 



30 THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 

to be guided by its own natural light^ is it not then both 
morally and philosophically monstrous to assume that 
Conscience — the great eye of the soul — is stark blind ? 
As the light-house is to commerce, so must conscience 
ever be to all our higher and more sacred interests. 

Certainly intellect as an instrument may be employed 
by conscience, or by any other sense, in a majority of 
their respective processes ; it may even modify the action 
of conscience indirectly, as a lantern might influence a 
night traveler ; but in pure moral function, or in that of 
any other sense, it must stand aloof as it was seen to do 
respecting taste in the matter of architecture. (1) Its 
discursive intelligence is essentially different from that 
of sense intuition ; (2) Having no feeling or moral 
quality of its own, it is incapable of instructing other 
faculties in such respect ; (3) Being wholly irresponsible 
itself, it can not contribute essentially to responsibility 
in another ; and (4) Being but an instrument itself, it 
should not have a prime control over that which is en- 
dowed with causality. Nevertheless, that it does do so 
is witnessed constantly in religious, moral, esthetic, social, 
and all other human interests. This is a curious and 
difficult problem ; further on an attempt will be made 
at its solution. 

It was promised in the outset that the several succeed- 
ing chapters would supply whatever might be needed in 
support of the first proposition so meagerly discussed in 
the first chapter ; viz., that the end of existence — what- 
ever that great idea may involve — is predicable of sense 
in all the essential respects. Now, add to the arguments 
there given the additional conceptions, causality and 
moral responsibility — the latter including intuitive intei- 



THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 31 

ligence — and certainly altogether the proof becomes suf- 
ficient for said first proposition. 

Now then, suppose all three conceptions be canceled 
from the mind ; that is, causality, moral responsibility, and 
the great all-embracing idea, end of existence, nothing 
worth the mention would then remain to human charac- 
ter except discursive intelligence, which is but an instru- 
ment at the most. In view of all, the truth then forces 
itself upon us that even discursive intelligence may pos- 
sibly be grounded in sense, and in a word, that sensibility 
is mind, and mind is sensibility. Such, in fact, is the 
one and ultimate idea of this book : to show that mind 
and sensibility are identical, and that whatever intelli- 
gence we may claim is but an oif-shoot from sensibility, 
a mere out-stretching of the arms of sense for that which 
is beyond its usual reach. In germ at least, this one 
culminating idea is contained in each of the three lead- 
ing propositions just discussed; but take only one, viz., 
if sense be the cause and intelligence be the instrument only 
— the one master and the other servant — we have the 
one idea in its essence. In such event, mind and sense 
are identical ; either one is alike equivalent to Self, Ego, 
etc. It only remains to deduce discursive intelligence 
from sense, which will be much less difficult to do with 
quite three fourths of the battle already won. 

This statement is now made in concluding Part I, in or- 
der that the several lines of thought employed so far may 
be brought to bear more effectually upon the one chief 
idea, while they are still fresh in mind. Besides, it is to 
state the fact that the desultory and mainly practical 
thoughts just given in respect to moral intelligence will 
be largely supplemented hereafter, for the main purpose 



32 THE SELF : WHAT 18 IT ? 

henceforward will be to show that all intelligence springs 
primarily from sense. And moreover, knowing the full 
scope of the book at once, the reader will not hereafter 
complain of inadvertencies or thoughtless mistakes touch- 
ing irrelevant side issues glimpsed at by the way, but look 
simply to the chief thoughts which bear directly upon 
the one chief issue. 

Conclusion to Part I. 

But why such sharp analysis in distinguishing between 
sense and intellect, seemingly with a view to exalt the 
one and disparage the other ; seeing, too, that mind being 
an indivisible unit, these, its two great phases, are neces- 
sarily and inseparably blended in all the varied experi- 
ences of life? Such invidious distinctions are unnatural! 
cries the rationalist. Because, it is replied, without an- 
alysis there can be no clear insight into many of the 
most important problems of mind, while as to the pres- 
ent case, it is imperatively needed in order to expose 
errors arbitrarily assumed without philosophical warrant, 
and whereby the rationalist on the contrary, in exalting 
intellect at the expense of sense — error at the expense of 
truth — is ever working frightful harm to the most sacred 
interests of society. If there must be supremacy in the 
case, then let the rightful heir have it, and not a pre- 
tender by any means. 

It is again asked, if intellect be dethroned as the su- 
preme ruler of our conduct, what authority in such event 
will protect against strife, ambition, fanaticism, and all 
other disorders of sense? This question may be modi- 
fied variously, but in any of its usual aspects like that 



THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 33 

respecting insanity, it begs the issue by assuming the su- 
premacy of intellect in the outset. Leaving out what 
has been said about causality, etc., this one practical fact 
is of itself sufficient at this point, viz : If intellect be 
supreme, then a man's morals ought to be proportionate 
to his intellect, which is too absurd to notice. In reply 
to the question, however, conscience — practically at least, 
if not theoretically — has been recognized by all the ages 
as at any rate the rightful, and hence it ought to be the 
supreme ruler of human conduct. In other words, the 
absence, or rather the non-rule of conscience accounts 
for vice in the first place, while in the next its active 
presence is the only known human authority which can 
prevent it. 

But, put into a nutshell, this is a system of pure sen- 
sualism in which intellect is degraded on the one hand, 
while brute sense and animal appetite are exalted on the 
other, says the rationalist. But this complaint suggests 
a sufficient argument in itself for the very point in debate, 
viz., our complacency towards intellect, contrasted with 
our censure of sense, shows conclusively that intellect is 
wholly blameless and irresponsible as respects the con- 
trol of our conduct, while sense in fact is the real object 
of censure, being the responsible cause in the case. We 
even despise our own senses, to say nothing about those 
of other people, when they lead into vicious ways, with- 
out one thought, much less censure of intellect. It may 
also be noted in this connection, that the epitRet " animal 
passions,^' ^U:>rute desires, etc.,'' as applied to vicious men, 
amount to literal slanders against dumb brutes; for being 
without conscience, they are blameless in moral matters, 
whereas man, by a vicious life, sinks, far below the brute. 



34 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 

As for the rest, it must be confessed that sense is ever 
liable to stray off into profligate paths, and being left 
unchecked, is not likely to stop short of the lowest deg- 
radation. But suppose it elsewise, what would be the 
result? Without a presupposed or possible degrada- 
tion there could be no exaltation ; without a valley, no 
mountain summit; without darkness, no possible concep- 
tion of light. It is the controlling of "brute appetite,'^ 
if you choose to so call it, in accordance with moral laws, 
which constitutes the very ladder whereby man mounts 
to his highest honor and glory. 

By subjugating vicious inclinations to the require- 
ments of moral honesty, there comes into existence that 
beautiful something called " the noblest work of God.^' 
By subjugating individual selfishness to the requirements 
of patriotism, mankind was honored with a Leonidas. 
Without these same viciously inclined senses of ours, 
there could have been no noblest work of God, no Leon- 
idas, no Socrates to thrill the workPs heart with manly 
pride. Besides, no one of our senses, no matter how 
small or trifling, can be spared from the moral economy, 
allowing it to be kept burning at a proper moral luster; 
we could much better afford to lose any one of the large 
worlds from the physicial system than to lose the least of 
these lights from the moral galaxy. Considered in the 
aggregate, it may be said, in a word, that without our 
viciously inclined senses there could have been no need of 
conscience;' there could have been no moral, no religious, 
no social or other human conventionality. 

All moral worth is grounded in sense ; now then, as 
to the relative merits of moral worth as contrasted with 
those of intellect, we have but to ask how the two stand 



THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 35 

relatively in the esteem and admiration of the race. It 
is true that quite a number of great intellects shine out 
here and there in history ; but if perchance such char- 
acters be lacking in moral luster, they shine like so many 
dim and cold light-houses along a misty coast. Whereas, 
when a character highly endowed with any moral quality, 
like that of Leonidas or Socrates, rises before the imag- 
ination, we realize the splendor of a rising sun, whose 
beams warm and inspire every heart. 

But this system, whether called sensual, anti-intel- 
lectual, or otherwise, must stand upon its own merits. 
Instead of answering objections to it, the chief purpose 
of this conclusion is to note one special inference of a 
practical kind resulting from the preceding pages. It is 
this : Intellect being only an instrument, and meanwhile 
without moral quality, may be employed with equal 
facility either for or against moral results in any given 
case ; and thus affords, from a purely practical stand- 
point, both an illustration and confirmation of what was 
said in the two chapters on causality. Moral intelli- 
gence of course, though itself but an instrument, must 
from its very nature contribute to moral results ; while 
intellectual intelligence, which is at once both an instru- 
ment and a moral neutral together, stands alike ready to 
serve the purposes either of morality or vice. It is a 
passive tool as regards morals. Only let philanthropy 
command, and away goes intellect on errands of kind- 
ness — a seeming angel of mercy ; or, let vicious avarice 
command, and away goes intellect under whip and spur, 
to commit murder or high-way robbery — a seeming 
devil. But it is neither angel nor devil ; it is simply 
neuter in the matter of morals; and, like all other in- 



36 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 

struments^ is either for this or for that, according to the 
hand which wields it. In other words, culture of intel- 
lect per se does not make men better in moral respects. 

A glimpse at history will show that the most illus- 
trious nations of the past were born and bred in com- 
parative ignorance, to say nothing of poverty and other 
conspiring disparagements — yet thenceforward, in spite 
of all draw-backs, they moved straight on to power and 
prosperity. Nor was it until after reaching the zenith 
of culture and refinement, as we say, that decay and dis- 
solution set in. Evidently, heroic and manly moral 
traits account for the vigorous youth in such cases, while 
intellect, as a means to wealth, luxury, and vice, accounts 
for the final downfall. It is no disproof of this assump- 
tion, that we apply the epithet " robbers ^^ to the early 
Romans, or that of " pirates '' to our Saxon ancestors. 
The truth is, that the method of acquisition by means of 
the principle that ^^ might is right 'Ms not wholly un- 
known to our present civilization ; while, on the other 
hand, quite a number of sterling virtues possessed by the 
early Romans and Saxons are only read of in books 
nowadays. But in brief: if culture and wealth consti- 
tute a nation's true prosperity, then a nation once so 
endowed, and while keeping so endowed, ought to keep 
strong and never perish ; but the truth is, that national 
decay never unfurls its banners except on the very sum- 
mit of those conditions, thus showing the contradiction, 
that the same thing which may be a crown of health and 
life to-day may be a winding sheet of death to-morrow. 

In view of these facts — as also in view of the fact 
that all civil and political principles are derived from a 
moral source — it is difficult to see how any government 



THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 37 

can fail to cultivate an earnest vigilance and solicitude 
for the moral health of its subjects. It is especially 
hard to see how our government, which is is so zealous 
in its neutrality respecting religion, can avoid taking a 
decidedly active and aggressive course, at least, in foster- 
ing and protecting the moral interests of her subjects. 
But instead and on the contrary, when she manifests in- 
decision and feebleness in attempting to suppress vices 
which threaten her own existence, not to say that of 
civilization, then the spectacle becomes amazing. Be- 
hold the culture and wealth of my sons ! she exclaims. 
But it may be replied with still greater emphasis : ^^ In- 
stead of bread, you have given your sons stones ; instead 
of fish, you have given serpents.'^ 

There is no infatuation of the times which is more 
subtile, more rapidly growing, and at the same time so 
frightful in its tendencies as the one now in question, viz : 
That sheer culture of intellect, supplemented by the 
press and the modern school systems, precludes the pos- 
sibility of a retrograde in national prosperity. But all 
the intellectual culture and wealth of the world com- 
bined can not make one virtuous man ; nor can they in 
any degree satisfy certain vital needs that are indispen- 
sable to human character. To turn a man loose with 
such an outfit only would be tnuch the same as to turn 
a madman loose to run at large with a fire-brand. In- 
deed, if every American citizen were a Solomon in knowl- 
edge and a Croesus in wealth, yet, without a wonderful 
quantity of moral life-blood as a restraining power, we 
would all rush pell-mell to ruin, and that without delay. 

However, ignoring what we have done, or are doing, 
or ought to do, the chief purpose is to emphasize the one 

4 



38 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 

fact, that intellectual culture 'per se can not make men 
better morally ; and therefore, admitting our needs in 
this latter respect, we can not fold the arms and feel ex- 
onerated from supplying such needs simply because of 
the bountiful intellectual supply on hand. 



Part II — Intelligence. 



CHAPTER I. 

All the Objects of Intelligence Divided into Two Great 
Classes or Spheres Corresponding to the Two Species 
OF Intelligence. 

The chief purpose, henceforth, is to trace all intelli- 
gence to sense as its origin. All intelligence — let us say 
cognition as a shorter word — has already been divided 
into two species, and which division into two species 
will be continued, with the following explanation : 

(1) Intuitive cognition, which simply means sense 
cognition, springs directly from sense, and hence needs 
no tracing. As already seen, each primitive sense, from 
the lowest up to the highest — say, from the palate up to 
taste and conscience — is endowed with a cognitive power 
peculiar to itself The cognitions of these, severally and 
all together, constitute all cognition except that of the 
discursive kind, next to be noticed. After a while special 
care will be taken both to prove as well as show the 
great extent and importance of this intuitive cognition. 
Its special trait is to see intuitively and instantly, with- 
out any discursive or measuring process. This cogni- 
tion, whether that of an individual sense or of all the 
senses combined, will be called just as Kant called it, by 
the simple and common name, intuition. 

(2) Discursive cognition, in distinction to the intui- 
tive, proceeds by means of a discursive or measuring 



40 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 

process. It is that cognition which is usually asscribed 
to the intellect or understanding. This is the only cog- 
nition which needs to be traced to sense, since the intui- 
tive and only other kind springs directly from sense. 
An attempt has already been made to exclude the discur- 
sive from all moral processes ; and now, besides the 
moral, an attempt will be made to exclude it from by 
far the greater and more important processes of cogni- 
tion ; and thus, by restricting its sphere, thereby mean- 
while enlarge that of intuition correspondingly. 

The words intellect or discursive will be employed to 
represent this species of cognition in distinction to intu- 
ition or sense cognition. 

By all means let it be specially noted, that the work 
in hand is not to explain, define, or analyze any specific 
faculty, but rather to distinguish and examine respect- 
ively the two great species of cognition, intuitive and 
discursive. There are but two great species, and in get- 
ting at these directly we get at the all of human cogni- 
tion. This will avoid quite a little world of trouble, 
delay, and confusion ; and when we can once get a clear 
view of the two species and their respective spheres, then 
each may employ such titles of distinction as may be pre- 
ferred. 

Moreover, instead of a dry and abstract investigation 
of cognition per se, let us rather turn to the objects of 
cognition ; for it will be found that the objects themselves 
are divided into two great spheres, corresponding to the 
two species of cognition. Nor is that all ; for it will 
also be found that the objects of by far the greater and 
more important sphere are such by their essential nature 
as to place them forever beyond the reach of discursive 



THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 41 

cognition. This line of procedure will require close at- 
tention and a little sharp thinking at the outset; but, 
once seeing the distinction between the two great spheres 
of the objects of cognition, the distinction will presently 
become so plain, so broad, and so natural, that by and by 
we realize ourselves as being on a great highway. 

What then are the two great spheres which contain 
all the possible objects of human cognition? For pres- 
ent and for all practical purposes one may be called 
comparative and the other positive. The comparative 
sphere includes all objects, and such only as can be com- 
pared ; that is, compared by means of mensuration. 
The positive sphere includes directly the opposite ; that 
is, such objects and such only as can not be compared or 
measured, neither among themselves nor with any others. 
In other words, the comparative contains only compara- 
ble objects ; the positive contains only incomparable ob- 
jects. 

This distinction is not so simple as might at first be 
supposed. There are a number of characteristic traits 
marking the objects of the two respective spheres, where- 
by and whereby only the distinction becomes not only 
sharp and plain but literally undeniable. To get at the 
said traits, rather than to employ a multitude of objects, 
it will save time to select a single representative one — 
say the idea of beauty — and by examining its traits as to 
the distinction in question get the whole in a nutshell. 
Beauty is selected not only because it involves all the 
traits, but also because it presents all the perplexities 
likely to be met in any case, and thus, in a double sense, 
may represent all other objects of cognition. Hence, 
the idea, beauty, must be investigated with some patience. 



42 THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 

A rose is positively beautiful in itself and not by vir- 
tue of comparison with something else. Its beauty is seen 
instantaneously and of necessity. And though this beauty 
may be modified by contrast, which, however, is quite 
different from comparison, yet it can not be compared 
or measured with any other beauty. Try it, say with 
the beauty of an orange. But it is not possible ; for, if 
otherwise, it would be easy to tell how many oranges 
will equal one rose in respect of beauty. It is impossi- 
ble, turn it as we may. Then the beauty of the rose 
may be called a positive or incomparable object, which 
can not be measured by any thing else. 

But the rose has other qualities besides that of beauty, 
several of which qualities can easily enough be com- 
pared with other objects. Thus, it has weight, bulk, 
market value, etc., which can readily be compared with 
the corresponding qualities of an orange. 

What is the reason of this difference? Instead of a 
tedious deduction, it is better to answer this question 
promptly, for it will finally become obvious without any 
special explanation, and thus we will avoid delay. Then 
the answer is, this difference grows out of the concep- 
tion quantity. All objects of cognition involve the con- 
ception quantity. The two aspects here exhibited are 
intensive and extensive quantity. 

Now, then, we have the first and chief trait of dis- 
tinction, and from which, by the w^ay, all the other traits 
may be deduced. Comparative objects imply extensive 
quantity, and hence can be easily measured or compared 
together. Positive objects imply intensive quantity, and 
can not be measured or compared. Thus, the weight, 
bulk, and market value of the rose imply extensive 



THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 43 

quantity, and which can be measured; while its beauty 
implies intensive quantity, which can not be measured. 

It is easy enough, with the simple principle of com- 
parison, to distinguish between the two spheres ; but 
unless we first know why some objects are comparable 
and others not, we miss the marrow of the question. 
The principle of comparison, taken by itself, signifies 
nearly or quite nothing. Hence, as also because all the 
other traits may be deduced from this conception quan- 
tity, it is desirable to impress the mind very clearly with 
the distinction between intensive and extensive quantity. 
To that end it is well to take another illustration. 

Mrs. A buys five pieces of merchandise, to be made, 
say, into a dress. The five articles cost ten dollars each, 
and all together fifty, according to the principle of com- 
parison — "the whole is equal to its parts,^^ etc. ; that is, 
to know the cost of the several articles individually is 
to know the cost of all with absolute certainty, and this 
is the comparative side of the question. Now, for the 
sake of illustration, allowing, on the other side, that 
each article has ten degrees of beauty, then, when all 
are made into a dress, the total beauty ought to be fifty 
degrees, according to the principle just mentioned. In- 
stead, the several articles being turned over to an expert 
dress-maker, the beauty might be intensified ten fold ; 
while, on the contrary, if put into incapable hands, the 
result might be outright ugliness, although the original 
articles with their original beauty were the same in 
each case. In this latter, that is, in relation to beauty, 
we have the positive or intensive aspect of the question, 
which is absolutely unmeasurable according to any rule, 
while in the former we have the comparative or exten- 



44 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 

sive aspect, which is measurable with perfect precision 
down to the least fraction. The distinction between the 
two is quite as great as that between east and west. 

With either of the two })rinciples, comparability or 
quantity, we have the clew to all the other traits of both 
spheres. Each sphere has its series of traits, and which 
two series being in direct antithesis, it follows that to 
have the original of either is to have all. Thus, all ob- 
jects capable of being compared imply extensive quantity; 
the latter again implies divisibility, and this in turn im- 
plies parts, and this plurality, and altogether whatever 
is so characterized is unfinished and perishable. In an- 
tithesis we have on the other side those objects which 
are incomparable, intensive in quantity, indivisible, whole, 
unit, finished, imperishable. 

In order to see more clearly the distinction between 
the two series, as also to see how the respective members 
of each series stand linked together, it is better to see 
them side by side, thus : 

Comparative, Extensive, Divisible, Parts, Plurality, 
Unfinished, Perishable ; 

Positive, Intensive, Indivisible, Whole, Unity, Fin- 
ished, Imperishable. 

But the conception beauty is to be the test or repre- 
sentative of the whole issue. Then it is easy to see that 
beauty is incomparable, and that its incomparability re- 
sults from its intensity in respect of quantity; but it will 
not be altogether clear to every one that it is therefore 
indivisible. But being once seen as indivisible, then all 
the succeeding traits on the positive side will be seen to 
follow as necessary results therefrom. As to the compara- 
tive side, we may begin indifferently at either end of the 



THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 45 

series, and it is evident that the next succeeding member 
is necessarily implied. So that the only remaining in- 
quiry is to examine beauty as regards divisibility. 

Is beauty indivisible ? Instead of a rose, a painting 
or sculpture will better suit this inquiry. The beauty 
of a painting can not be compared ; else, we might 
know how many commonplace paintings would be re- 
quired to equal one master-piece. Its canvas, paint, 
etc., of course can be compared, but it must be kept 
sharply in mind that beauty is the point in question. 
Also it may be noted as something which Avill be shown, 
either in the close of this or the next chapter, that there 
is an all-important distinction between perceiving dif- 
ferences and comparing differences. The difference in 
beauty of two paintings may be readily perceived^ but 
not compared or measured. The one is contrast, the 
other comparison. The one is intuitive, the other dis- 
cursive. 

May not a statue be broken or a painting be cut into 
pieces, and thus present _par^s having a divisible beauty? 
Certainly not. There is absolutely no beauty in mat- 
ter; the beauty ascribed to it results from suggestions 
which grow out of the relations, associations, etc., of the 
materials employed in any given case. Every work of 
art, including composition, harmony, and all the usual 
details must, with and by means of said elements, con- 
verge to unity as its highest feature. It is evident that 
to break up this harmonious and unified whole, is to 
annihilate it in respect of beauty. 

But here is a fragment — a hand for instance, sepa- 
rated from the original painting or statue; yet it is 
beautiful in and by itself. Grant it; but then such 



46 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 

beauty is altogether new, for the plain reason that by 
virtue of color, proportion, attitude, or otherwise, this 
identical hand might possibly have been an outright in- 
jury to the beauty of the original. But if it had no 
beauty in the original, it certainly could have brought 
no part of the original beauty away. Then whence its 
isolated beauty? It must evidently be new beauty; new 
beauty attaching to new suggestions, relations, etc. 

On the contrary, this hand might possibly have had 
a higher degree of beauty in the original than as a frag- 
ment. Then whence the excess it had in the original? 
The truth is, nothing is predicable of it now in point of 
beauty that might have been in the original ; the con- 
tingencies in the case are simply infinite, as was seen in 
that of the dress-making. Besides, if all the fragments 
of the statue are gathered up, they will be found iden- 
tical in bulk, weight, etc., with the original; whereas, 
in the mean time the beauty is gone, thus showing that 
the illusion results from confounding intensive with ex- 
tensive aspects. 

But we have just been speaking of new, original, and 
other kinds of beauty, and which would seem to recog- 
nize it as being divided or having parts. This again is 
only speaking of it relatively, of its varied methods, 
times, and places of manifestations, and not of beauty 
essentially. The former may imply numerical or exten- 
sive quantity, but the latter, never. The sunlight, pierc- 
ing the clouds here and there, gives varied manifesta- 
tions of itself as to brilliancy, locality, etc., but it is one 
and the same light none the less. 

The conception beauty was selected as a test obje(;t 
because of the very perplexities just examined, and 



THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 47 

which pretty well represent all the arabiguities to be 
found in the question. It would have been much easier 
at the start to have shown that beauty necessarily be- 
longs to the same category with truth, justice, mercy, 
and numberless other objects which evidently are in the 
positive sphere ; and this would have been done, but that 
it seemed better to clear up all doubts at the outset. 
Mercy can not be cut into two. Truth, justice, etc., 
have no divisible parts. Each is obviously one in itself 
and indivisible, though having numberless modes as 
to time, place, and degree of manifestation, just like 
beauty. 

We can conceive of any number of circles exten- 
sively — that is, as to number and dimensions — though of 
but one circle intensively. There can be but one circle 
essentially as distinguished from triangle, square, etc. 
Nor can we either add to or subtract one hair's breadth 
from the conception circle without annihilating it. In 
a million of circles no new property can be found which 
does not also belong to the original conception of circle, 
which shows that it is an indivisible unit. The same is 
true of beauty. 

If the conceptions beauty, truth, circle, etc., were 
divisible, it would be a quick work to compare their 
parts and ascertain the equivalent of one in that of the 
other; for instance, to find out how much beauty to 
equal a given amount of truth, or of circle to equal a 
certain proportion of square, etc. 

It is now plain that to determine any object in rela- 
tion to comparability, is to determine it throughout the 
particular series to which it belongs ; if it be compara- 
ble, then it is necessarily extensive, divisible, and so on 



48 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 

through the series; but if incomparable, then it is inten- 
sive, indivisible and so on through. Having the test of 
distinction, it will be easy to apply it, so soon as we can 
get a sort of geographical glimpse of the two spheres in 
the next chapter. 



THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 49 

CHAPTER II. 

The Same, Continued. 

It is obvious that matter, time, and space constitute 
the comparative sphere of cognition. These are com- 
parable in all their varied aspects and modifications, nor 
is there any other object not attaching to one or the 
other of these which can be compared in the sense of 
mensuration. 

So that these words, matter, time, and space represent 
the sum total of the comparative sphere. 

It would hence follow, that all remaining or incom- 
parable objects throughout the entire realm of cognition 
constitute what we have agreed to call the positive 
sphere; that is, God, mind, spirit, life, etc., with all 
their implications. Briefly, these implications include 
mental attributes, qualities, processes, states, experiences, 
endowments — all powers, traits, and contents of mind, 
together with all powers, elementary essences, or what- 
ever else may be found to be incomparable. 

These are all simple or ultimate things, which can 
not be reduced to any thing lower than themselves. Each, 
considered as an individual object in itself, is a positive, 
indivisible unit, something distinct from every thing else^ 
and is just what it is, no more, no less. It can not be 
compared in itself nor with any thing else; nor can it be 
distinguished from any thing else, except simply by what 
it is, and not by weight, extension, or other measurable 
property. It is a positive reality. 

The two conceptions, comparable and incomparable, 



50 THE SELF : WHAT 18 IT ? 

include in their two spheres every possible object of 
cognition. The comparative sphere seems vastly the 
larger of the two, at least in respect of extent ; but those 
who are in the habit of philosophizing more in reference 
to essence than to extent, will see that the positive repre- 
sents all of our higher and more vital interests, and may 
be characterized as the sphere of positive reality. 

Do not take this distinction to be the same with the 
commonplace and negative distinction between mind and 
matter ; it is, indeed, that, and much more besides, and 
withal it carries an invincible reason for its discrimina- 
tions in putting one object in this, and another in that 
sphere. It places many objects in the positive sphere, 
which by carelessness are usually left in the compara- 
tive : as beauty, life, energy, etc. Above all, it proclaims 
in unmistakable notes that one sphere is perishable, the 
other imperishable, and shows undeniable reasons for so 
proclaiming. 

Besides, materialism has all along denied precisely that 
which this distinction proves — a positive sphere ; that 
is, it puts both spheres on the same level, and which 
amounts to the same thing as a denial of the positive. 
It teaches, for example, that mind consists of parts — 
sense and intellect for instance — and in thus being a com- 
posite and not a simple substance, is on the same footing 
with matter. But such a doctrine stands dumb and im- 
potent before this distinction, which shows that the Cre- 
ator has put an impassable gulf between mind and 
matter. 

This mistake of the materialist grows out of two false 
assumptions : (1) That parts are constitutive of wholes, 
which is untrue even in physics, to say nothing of mind. 



THE SPJLF : WHAT IS IT? 51 

This is no more nor less tlian a reversal of the causal prin- 
ciple, making parts the cause, and whole the effect^ which 
is an outrage both to nature and philosophy. The ques- 
tion is irrelevant just here, but being the entering key 
or clew to materialism, it will be noticed time and again 
before the end. (2) The assumption that mind has parts^ 
which is a pure illusion. 

Mind, of course, manifests various phases or modes, 
just like beauty. Now, in an attempt to study these 
modes, the thinker employs the conception parts — a con- 
ception of his own mind — as an instrument for analyzing 
the said modes, but meanwhile and unconsciously to 
himself ascribes this, his own conception parts, to the 
said modes as attributes of their own. In other words, 
he unconsciously ascribes his own extensive conception 
parts to the intensive modes under examination ; he looks 
through green glasses, and hence the object is also green. 
In the same way we may ascribe parts to every object. 
Even simple substance itself, the very point in question, 
can not be conceived of without giving it a beginning 
or an ending, a center or a circumference, an interior or 
an exterior, or some other like trait, and which accord- 
ing to the illusion would be parts of simple substance ; 
yet, for all that, simple substance is simple substance, 
that is, in its very meaning and essence, it is the precise 
and direct opposite of that something which has parts. 

However, our distinction settles the question beyond 
dispute by proving that mind has no parts; or, if any 
one should be such a zealot of matter as to still claim 
that mind has parts, it amounts to no more than a play 
on words; for, even allowing it to have parts, the dis- 
tinction proves such parts to be indivisible, which at 



52 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 

least amounts to no parts at all as regards the essential 
point in question. Thus, whatever is incomparable can 
have no extensive quantity ; hence no divisibility ; hence 
no parts, and hence must be an ultimate simple sub- 
stance, at once indecomposable and imperishable. Or, 
reverse the proposition thus; Mind is not a simple sul)' 
stance; therefore it has parts ; hence divisibility; hence 
extensive quantity, and hence comparability. But it is 
impossible to compare mind in the sense of mensuration, 
either in itself or with its attributes, or with any thing 
in the comparative sphere. Mind can not be compared 
with time, space, or matter in respect of extent, weight, 
color, or otherwise. If two minds can be measured to- 
gether, then tell how many of the average sort will 
equal one great mind ; how much intellect to equal one 
sensibility ; the difference between memory and imagina- 
tion; or how much of one to equal the other; how many 
small untruths to equal one infamous falsehood ; how 
many pleasant sensations to equal ecstacy ; the equiv- 
alent of toothache in headache, and so on without end. 
So that, if it be insisted on to the bitter end, that mind has 
parts, it only amounts to an empty play on words ; for, 
in spite of all, the distinction proves mind to be incom- 
parable, intensive, indivisible, simple, and an imperish- 
able substance. 

There are still a few facts to be borne in mind in 
order to employ the test of distinction with satisfactory 
results. The two spheres in many respects are nearly 
relatedj else there had been no need of both. This re- 
lationship is so intimate in some cases as to cause no 
little complication, which sometimes results in apparent 
contradiction. Thus, objects of the positive sphere often 



THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 53 

produce measurable effects on objects of the comparative, 
in which case the thing itself must not be confounded 
with its effects on something else. The discursive intel- 
lect, for instance, which is an incomparable object itself, 
is wholly occupied in measuring comparable objects. 

Then again, according to the doctrine of the corre- 
lation of forces, heat, light, etc., being but modifications 
of one force, are, as such, one and indivisible ; yet their 
effects on matter are very readily measured. By the 
way, the fact here suggested, and which even the phys- 
ical scientists themselves are beginning to suspect, viz., 
that matter itself is ultimately resolvable into force — in 
combustion for instance — this fact will not be employed 
against the materialist. It is irrelevant as a special 
issue ; and even if not, in disparaging the comparative 
sphere it would disparage our contrast. 

It is also to be noted that some objects, in one aspect 
or another, may belong to both spheres ; man's physical 
body, for example, is in the comparative while his mind 
is in the positive. Again, by personification or assump- 
tion, any comparative may be treated as a positive object. 
An orange, as a symbol of unity, is in so far positive. 
Even a part — a part, no matter of what — being assumed 
as a whole part, may represent unity and indivisibility. 
Again, but by no means the least, through ignorance or 
inadvertency any object may be looked at both from a pos- 
itive and a comparative standpoint at the same time ; and 
which mistake is the sole source of all the apparent con- 
tradictions of mind, as will be seen in the next chapter. 

Again, and also as highly noteworthy with regard to 
the two kinds of cognition, while the discursive is wholly 
restricted to the comparative sphere, the intuitive on the 

5 



54 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 

other hand is wholly unrestricted. This is plain from 
the obvious fact that the discursive is the sole compar- 
ing or measuring power, and as such is legitimately ex- 
cluded from the positive sphere for the simple reason 
that in this latter there are no measurable objects. As 
formerly stated, however, the discursive does often med- 
dle with positive objects ; but it is evidently none the 
less wrong and harmful to a high degree, and which, ac- 
cording to former promise, will be discussed in due time. 

This again reminds of another promise. Some way 
back it was promised to show other reasons why discur- 
sive intellect could not handle moral questions ; and see- 
ing now that such questions are not comparable, they are 
necessarily forever beyond the reach of the measuring 
process. Indeed, we can now^ see that, besides morals, 
the intellect is excluded from the whole of that sphere, 
which includes our highest and most vital knowledge. 

On the other hand, intuitive cognition is wholly unre- 
stricted as to the two spheres. The distinction limits its 
operation only in respect of comparison. Every object 
or event presented to the mind, whether from within or 
without, comes necessarily through intuition. It is the 
mind's great eye. 

As we proceed it will be seen that the distinction in 
many ways places impassable barriers in the way of ma- 
terialism. So far from deducing mind from matter, it 
shows that no purely physical data can be employed 
whereby to reach, much less invalidate or seriously bear 
upon, any of the great problems of the other and incal- 
culably higher sphere. All the material of the lower 
sphere, combined and made into one ladder, would still 
be too short to reach the higher. , > 



THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 55 

For several pages back we have had no little annoy- 
ance for want of a clear distinction between 'perceiving 
and comparing differences. Perhaps more than any late 
writer Sir William Hamilton has dwelt upon the two 
words, perception and comparison. He employs per- 
ception somewhat in the same way that Kant does the 
word intuition. On coming to comparison, like many 
others, he expands it to such a degree as to quite super- 
sede perception. He says, for example, the Ego can not 
assert its existence — I am — without comparison ; since, as 
he assumes, such assertion involves a comparison of the 
Ego with the non-Ego. Let it be granted; but mean- 
while, if comparison can perform all the functions of 
perception, then the law of parcimony would require 
perception to be canceled, since it would be wholly use- 
less in such an event. Sir William, however, though 
implicitly, did not hint explicitly at such a thing. 

But, if retained, what is to be the office of perception? 
It is to perceive objects without also perceiving their dif- 
ferences, as Sir William implicitly intimates. In such 
case all objects would be perceived as only one object. 
Objects can not be perceived in their essences ; we can 
only perceive their exterior aspects; and, since such as- 
pects represent their differences, we must either perceive 
such differences, else perceive nothing but one universal 
object. Besides, the distinction between the two spheres 
of cognition shows that the larger and more important 
sphere consists of objects which can by no possibility be 
compared; so that such objects could neither be brought 
into the mind in the first place, nor analyzed in the sec- 
ond, unless there be other cognitive powers besides that 
employed in comparison. 



56 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 

Then we are compelled to retain perception ; and in 
retaining it we are compelled to grant it the capacity to 
perceive differences. But if perception is to perceive 
differences, it hence follows that the office of discursive 
intellect is to compare or measure' differences. 

Whether inclined or not, we are compelled to accept 
this result. If the foregoing reasons do not sustain it, 
yet there is an endless number of facts which constrain 
us to accept it. We can perceive a difference between a 
whole and a part, and that difference can be easily meas- 
ured. We can just as easily perceive the difference be- 
tween a truth and a lie, but this latter difference can 
by no possibility be measured. Hence, an irreconcilable 
distinction between perceiving and comparing differences. 

Following Kant, the word intuition has been herein 
preferred to that of perception. Perception, as usually 
employed, is too narrow, and on many other accounts 
wholly unsuited to the purposes of this volume. Intui- 
tion not only includes perception, but, as will be seen by 
and by, much else besides. Let it be borne in mind 
henceforth that intuition always implies a perceiving of 
differences, and that comparison always implies a meas- 
uring of differences. 

While digressing, pray allow another all-important 
explanation : No object can be found in the positive sphere 
which suggests in a clear and legitimate way the concep- 
tions infinity and eternity. They are deducible solely from 
the conception, infinite divisibility of space, time, and mat- 
ter; and otherwise could not have been known. They are 
properly applicable only to divisible things, and hence can 
not be applied to God, mind, etc., without great harm- 
In truth, they always tacitly imply infinite divisibility. 



THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 57 

(1) Our test of distinction will show, when fully stud- 
ied, that the subtile implications of these two words, in- 
finity and eternity, constitute the stronghold of materi- 
alism in discussing such questions as the personality and 
existence of God, the beginning of existence, etc. The 
fact will be seen that these two words, infinity and eter- 
nity, are two great cheats, though in reality they are only 
two great nothings. Their constant tendency, however, 
is to allure the mind away from an indivisible object of 
investigation into the groove of divisibility. 

(2) To think of God as being infinitely extended in 
the sense of space, is not only to virtually ascribe divisi- 
bility to Him, but is to throw a cloud over His person- 
ality and existence, and meanwhile to remove Him to the 
greatest possible distance from us. The moment we try 
to think of Him as infinite, that is, extensively, that very 
moment He vanishes from sight, fully as much as an in- 
finite nothing would do on the same conditions. 

Whereas, if we think of Him, not extensively^ as we 
do of space, but intensively, as we do of mind, that very' 
moment He comes back ; and so near, too, that we realize 
Him truly and intelligibly as our Father. In other 
words, when we think of an infinite and an eternal God, 
we literally think of nothing; and it is only when we 
think of the. Great Absolute Mind which is the Cause 
and Father of all that we properly conceive of God. 
We can conceive as easily of a great mind as of a small 
one; as easily of universal human mind as of one mind; 
and hence can conceive of God only provided the con- 
ception be intensive and not extensive. 



58 THE self: what is it? 

CHAPTEE III. 

Solution of Contradicjtions. 

If the distinction discussed in the two preceding chap- 
ters be not already sufficiently proven, it will be placed 
beyond doubt when we see that it will serve as a ready solv- 
ent for all the apparent contradictions of mind; certainly 
no higher test or demonstration could be required, either 
in behalf of its truth, its naturalness, or its great worth. 

It is quite certain that mind is constantly liable to be 
deceived by illusive appearances, both from without and 
within. But illusion and outright contradiction are 
quite different. It is hard to see how such contradiction 
can be allowed to exist in mind, without thereby invali- 
dating it and meanwhile putting an end to all debate. 
The eye, for example, may often be deceived, but we can 
not allow it to be positively contradictory in itself, that 
is, to have a double or conflicting vision. In such case, 
it would be wholly useless, for it could never be relied 
on as to whether a given object be white or black. The 
same must be equally true of mind. 

But contradictions do exist in the mind ; and, since 
we can not allow them to be real, they must be only ap- 
parent, and if only apparent, then explicable. The pur- 
pose of this chapter is to explain them by means of the 
distinction just discussed. 

This distinction shows that there are two distinct 
spheres of cognizable objects, essentially different in all 
their traits. Also, that there are two species of cognition 
corresponding to the two classes of objects, and which 



THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 59 

two species of cognition also differ essentially, at least 
in respect of their methods and processes. Moreover, 
that, by virtue of this essential difference of the two 
classes of objects, as also by virtue of the corresponding 
difference of the two cognitive powers, one of said cog- 
nitive powers — the discursive — is restricted to its own 
peculiar sphere, while the other — the intuitive — has equal 
access to both spheres. But note the fact, that though 
the discursive is restricted by the facts of the case to its 
own sphere, it does nevertheless intrude itself unlaw- 
fully into the positive or intuitive sphere. With these 
facts it is easy to see how these two differently endowed 
cognitive powers, though looking at the same object, yet 
meanwhile looking from opposite standpoints, would 
necessarily reach different and perhaps directly opposite 
results. This is the true and simple explanation ; and 
it will be verified by applying it practically to any and 
all apparent contradictions of mind. 

Take a square inch of space as a simple and also rep- 
resentative object to begin with. This one object presents 
the two directly opposite traits of finity and infinity, and 
thus involves an outright contradiction. How is this to 
be explained ? The contradiction is either in the object 
or in the spectator. But the object has already testified 
to all that it can, and so w^e need ask it no further ques- 
tion. On the other hand, we can not conceive of a spec- 
tator with a judgment contradictory in itself. Yet we 
can conceive of a spectator endowed with two distinct 
faculties, which, being very much unlike, might give (!on- 
flicting testimony on any one subject, somewhat as might 
happen to vision in looking alternately through green 
and blue glasses. 



60 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 

This is clearly the only possible solution in the in- 
stance of a square inch of space. Thus : the discursive 
faculty can only deal with extensive or divisible ob- 
jects — that is, infinite objects by implication — and hence 
is literally blind as respects finity or unity ; it can see 
and handle the square inch only in so far as it represents 
infinity. On the other hand, the intuitive faculty, though 
cognizant of all objects, contemplates them only in a 
finite or unified sense, and hence sees the square inch as 
one indivisible object. In view of the facts apparent 
contradiction is the only possible result. But it is evi- 
dent, by way of solving the contradiction, that, instead 
of one, there are literally two spectators looking at two 
different aspects of the same object, and meanwhile look- 
ing from two different standpoints. 

It is well to note here, that there are two distinct 
kinds of contradiction : (1) The one just illustrated, in 
which two spectators, lookino; from different standpoints 
and looking at different aspects of the same object, give 
contradictory testimony. To see this with perfect clear- 
ness, take another illustration. One man, looking at the 
front of a certain iiouse, testifies that said house is painted 
white ; but another man, looking from a rear position, 
testifies that it is painted brown. On getting the facts 
both witnesses are found to be truthful : the said house 
is white in front and brown in the rear. Two distinct 
witnesses, at different positions, looking at two aspects of 
the same object, reconcile the conflicting testimony. 

(2) The other kind of contradiction is that in which 
one and the same aspect of one and the same object is 
differently reported by two witnesses. In such case it 
is plain that the fault is in one or the other witness; in- 



THE SET.F : WHAT IS IT? 61 

quiry will show that one of the two is false, else wholly 
incompetent as a witness in the given case. Thus : the 
eye asserts that the color of the canary bird is yellow, 
while the ear asserts that its song is beautiful. These 
assertions are different, but not conflicting; for they re- 
fer to two diiferent aspects of the object. But instead, 
suppose the ear becomes officious, and going out of its 
own sphere into that of the eye — out of acoustics into 
optics — asserts, contrary to the eye, that the canary is red 
and not yellow. Neither in this case is there really any 
contradiction ; for the simple reason that the ear is wholly 
incompetent to judge in the question of color. Its tes- 
timony amounts simply to nothing, and must, as in all 
similar cases, be thrown out of court. 

This second or last phase of contradiction is the only 
really serious and harmful one. Then, ever bear in mind 
that intuitive cognition is excluded only from the com- 
paring process, which by the way it never attempts ; 
while, on the other side, discursive intellect is excluded 
from all positive or incomparable objects. Yet it is con- 
stantly meddling with such objects; and in so doing 
plays the part of the ear precisely, allowing the latter to 
go out of its own sphere into that of the eye and give 
judgment on the subject of colors. All seriously harm- 
ful contradictions result from this meddling of discursive 
intellect with objects high above its reach. 

The illustration of a square inch of space represents 
a large class, an endless number indeed, to be found either 
in time, space, or physical objects. Sometimes there may 
be greater complexity than in the given instance; but in 
all cases it only needs to find out and distinguish clearly 
between the positive or intensive and the comparative or 



k 



62 THE self: what is it? 

extensive aspects of the object, wheu the contradiction 
vanishes at once. 

Hume, perhaps more than the average thinker, seemed 
sorely perplexed by these apparent contradictions. He 
made note of them as so many riddles in nearly every 
leading question that occupied his attention — as in space 
and time objects, and especially of those involved in the 
question of God^s existence — but never attempted to 
reconcile them. He attempted to exaggerate rather than 
to reconcile ; which perhaps largely accounts for his uni- 
versal skepticism, as well as for other nightmares of his 
philosophical dreaming. 

But though Plato may not have emphasized the dis- 
tinction as herein presented, he doubtless understood it 
perfectly. He employed at least the principle which is 
involved in the distinction with as much facility and 
dexterity as any conjuror would his sleight-of-hand instru- 
ments. It is perhaps no exaggeration to say, that in the 
Parmenides alone he presents quite five hundred appar- 
ent contradictions, derived from such conceptions as one 
and many, whole and parts, same and different, etc., all 
of them explicable by the principle of distinction herein 
set forth. He could not have marched through such a 
seeming chaos of contradictions with so much precision 
and self-possession to the clear results of Parmenides 
without a clear understanding of the distinction in ques- 
tion. Instead of being swayed by contradictions in 
grave questions, like Hume, he employed them rather 
as trifles or playthings. 

But Kant, more than any other distinguished writer, 
has devoted special attention to these contradictions* 
Yet, in justice to his sagacity, as well as to the interests 



THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 63 

of truth involved in the question, it must be stated that 
he did not specifically investigate contradictions per se; 
but rather employed them in support of a certain favor- 
ite theory, which led him to deny the possibility of a 
theoretical knowledge of God, moral freedom, etc. 

It is moreover but right to state, in vindication of his 
sagacity, that, while in respect of theory he had no rival 
as a sharp and far-reaching analyst of mental faculties, 
yet in practice he sometimes confounded his nice distinc- 
tions wdth as much rudeness as any ordinary writer. 
This statement is also made because of its special rela- 
vancy to the question in hand. 

In his exposition of the four great contradictions, or 
antinomies, as he called them, instead of recognizing two 
distinct cognitive faculties, looking from different stand- 
points, and looking at different aspects of the object, as 
herein explained; instead of this, he recognized but one, 
which he called reason, and as a necessary and most dis- 
astrous result he was compelled to affirm that reason is 
divided and contradictory in itself; and, worse than all, 
that reason is thus divided from the necessity of its very 
constitution. That is, with one breath, reason says there 
is a God, and with the next, there is no God ; and thus 
cancels itself on the question of God^s existence. 

With such a beginning, it need not be stated that his 
solutions were more tangled and difficult than the as- 
sumed contradictions themselves ; nor would time justify 
an attempt to explain his explanations. At another time 
and place, however, we will see the cause, and then can 
better excuse his misadventures in this instance. The 
object, here and now, is not to discuss Kant, but rather 
to test the validity of our distinction by its application 



64 THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 

to the antinomies as he presented them ; for, representing 
as they do four of the great apparent contradictions of 
mind, they ought to be a sufficient and final test of the 
distinction. 

First and last he devoted quite a hundred pages of 
the Critique to the antinomies and their implications, yet 
left them darker than at first. Let us take them one at 
the time, and in substance simply, for space will not 
allow of his elaborate statement. 

FIRST ANTINOMY. 

Thesis : The world had a beginning. 

Antithesis : The world had no beginning. 

In applying our test, let discursive intellect first test- 
ify from its comparative standpoint : The world implies 
matter, time, and space, any portion of either of which 
is divisible to infinity ; and, if infinite simply in respect 
of time, it could have had no beginning. Intuition, 
from its positive standpoint, replies : The world, as con- 
sisting of matter, is an extensive quantity; and as such 
is divisible, perishable, and dependent. If dependent, 
it must depend upon some independent cause as its crea- 
tor; and, having a creator, it must have had a begin- 
ning. 

SECOND ANTINOMY. 

Thesis : There is a simple ultimate substance. 

Antithesis : There is no simple ultimate substance. 

Discursive intellect says : Every thing has extent, 
divisibility, parts, etc. Even the universe and God are 
made up of parts, and hence there can be no simple sub- 
stance. Intuition replies : All positive reality is incom- 



THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 65 

parable, intensive, indivisible, whole, etc., and can have 
no parts. All such things are simple substances. 

THIED ANTINOMY. 

Thesis: There is snch a thing as freedom. 

Antithesis : There is no such thing as freedom. 

Discursive intellect says : Every thing that happens 
has a cause ; and, in being so influenced by something 
exterior to itself, it is under laws of mechanical necessity ; 
nothing can be free. Intuition replies : Besides divisible 
and perishable objects, which are under mechanical laws, 
there are indivisible and imperishable objects which act 
at discretion ; they not only control their own activity, 
but also to a large degree can control perishable objects 
and even the mechanical laws which control such objects. 
Such discretionary and controlling activity necessarily 
implies freedom ; and this is saying nothing about moral 
responsibility, which necessarily presupposes freedom. 

FOURTH ANTINOMY. 

Thesis : There is a God as prime cause of the universe. 

Antithesis : There is no God as prime cause of the 
universe. 

Discursive Intellect says : (1) Time, space, and mat- 
ter, being infinite, had no beginning, and therefore could 
have had no need of a God as prime cause. (2) Besides, 
since every known thing has a cause, there is no reason 
or philosophy for exempting God from the same necessity. 
Intuition replies : (1) Infinite and eternal are two words 
which only represent our incapacity to conceive of an 
end to the divisibility of a divisible thing ; they are lit- 
eral nonentities, and, as such, can in no way hinder or 



66 THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 

modify the existence of any positive reality. (2) If we 
allow the existence of any, the least divisible, perishable, 
and dependent object, we are equally compelled to allow 
an indivisible, imperishable, and independent ground, 
from which the former derived existence, and on which 
they depend for present support. 

Thus, instead of having one single faculty divided in 
itself, and therewith canceling itself, like Kant, we have 
two, and have two necessarily, in order to account intel- 
ligibly for the facts of the case. Meanwhile, we have a 
glimpse of the respective standpoints, and the correspond- 
ing opinions of intellect and intuition regarding the an- 
tinomies. Of course contradiction is absolutely inevitable 
under the circumstances; fully as much as it was with 
the two men respecting the color of the house. Besides, 
it is clear that both reasoned correctly; that is, correctly 
according to their respective standpoints, their respective 
aspects of the object and their respective standards of 
reasoning. 

But this is not the point at all. What then is the 
point? Why^ the line of argument on each side, as also 
the why and how of the contradictions, has been shown 
up for this one plain and all-important purpose; viz., 
that it was a philosophical outrage in the very outset to 
admit the testimony of discursive intellect on such ques- 
tions. Why? Because the several problems, being of 
an incomparable kind, are wholly beyond the tape-line 
measurements of intellect. Intellect should not be allowed 
any say-so on such questions; they are as much out of 
its sphere as the color of the canary is beyond that of 
the ear. And it is this incompetency of intellect on such 
problems that our distinction aims to emphasize. 



I 



THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 67 

It is very easy to see in the case of the antinomies, 
how rationalism can come about. Kant was no ration- 
alist ; yet, in not only allowing intellect to testify, but 
also in allowing it to cancel the testimony of intuition, 
or reason as he called it, he, though thoughtlessly, estab- 
lishes intellect as the ruling intelligence of mind. This 
was to introduce rationalism ; and intellect, being thus 
once set up and thenceforth proceeding according to 
physical or comparative standards, could but result in 
outright materialism; indeed, it is quite obvious that 
materialism is impossible without a pre-existent rational- 
ism. Hence our distinction, as here seen most clearly, 
roots up both at one stroke. 

But, in view of the many and subtile illusions and our 
constant liability to go astray on such momentous prob- 
lems, it is well to point out some of the pitfalls along 
here. Especially so respecting the existence of God; 
for this one problem, with all its implications, may be 
said to involve all the possible so-called contradictions 
of mind, and in discussing it we discuss all. 

Then it -may be stated, in a general way, that, in 
thinking or debating the existence of God, the very first 
care should be to examine the particular proposition 
leading to the debate. If it involve, however subtly, 
the conception, extension, divisibility, etc., then it lures 
us into an endless series of causes and eifects, which, 
being infinite, necessarily cancel God. If, on the con- 
trary, it involve intensity, indivisibility, etc., it leads 
straight forward to God. 

To illustrate, take the common-place child^s question : 
Mother, who made God? This question implies succes- 
sion, or time — maker, making, made. But time is in- 



68 THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 

finitely divisible, and hence the question leads into an 
infinite series, which has neither end nor God. Again, 
every effect must have a cause. In this, the word every 
implies each individual of a divisible and infinite series, 
and hence necessarily ignores God. 

On the other side, take this : The universe can not 
exist without a God as prime cause. This is a general 
abstract proposition, which excludes the conceptions, di- 
visibility and infinity, and hence points directly to God, 
Again, can any effect occur without a cause ? Here, the 
word any implies allness, wholeness, indivisibility, and 
leads straight to God. 

Upon this phase of the question it may be said in 
short, that God does not depend upon, nor is he anywise 
involved either in space or time ; hence the folly of look- 
ing for him in or on such conditions. But the words 
infinity and eternity originate in space and time concep- 
tions ; they can lead no elsewhere, and hence always lead 
away from God. The word divisibility, by virtue of its 
subtle implications, is absolutely identical with the two 
words infinity and eternity; and hence all three concep- 
tions ought to be avoided in discussing any object of the 
positive sphere. Certainly no two words ever were or 
ever can be employed as more formidable weapons for 
materialism on the one hand, or as more harmful to our 
conceptions of God's existence and personality on the 
other, than the two words infinity and eternity. 

As an upshot, there neither is nor can be any legiti- 
mate proof against the existence of God : it is a one- 
sided question. All so-called proof, coming as it does 
from a wdiolly incompetent witness, is worthless. In- 
deed, it is a sort of philosophical anomaly to talk about 



THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 69 

either proof or disproof about that which is in reality 
the ground of all proof: certainly, attempted disproof 
in such a case is a little more absurd than disproof re- 
specting the reality of existence. 

Kant himself, more than any other, showed beyond 
dispute that human cognition, in its least as in its great- 
est and as also in all its combined processes, ever goes 
back and can never stop short of an unconditioned ground 
for its operations. The most common syllogism can no 
more operate without its unconditioned ground of totality 
than an oak' tree can flourish in mid-air, and even so of 
every process of cognition. 

Seeing the absurdity of either proof or disproof respect- 
ing the said absolute ground, Kant, in order to maintain 
his position as before indicated, resorted to a sophistry 
which, instead of mending, made the matter still worse. 
It was this : Mind requires and must have for its own 
existence and operations, as well as for all other things, 
an unconditioned and an absolute ground. What is that 
ground ? According to his doctrine before indicated, we 
can not know God theoretically, but and yet we have 
an inborn idea of God. This is only an idea, however ; 
it is not God in reality, and proves nothing as to his ex- 
istence. Hereupon Kant fixes on this dummy idea as 
his much needed ground. 

In his perplexing search for a sufficient ground, he 
seems to have wholly forgotten that the imperious and 
primary demand of mind was not for a God, nor an idea 
of God, nor an idea of any thing else, but simply for an 
absolute and a sufficient ground for itself and all its oper- 
ations. Still the question comes up all the same : Is 
this mere idea of God an absolute and an unconditioned 

6 



70 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 

something? If so, then obviously said idea is God in 
reality. If not, then God must needs take the place of 
the idea, as being the only absolute and unconditioned 
existence which could even pretend to fill the require- 
ments of the case. If, in short, Kant had looked at the 
question intensively and not extensively, he would have 
seen it as much a philosophical necessity to allow that 
God positively dwells in the mind as to allow that the 
life essence of the acorn permeates the entire oak. Or 
thus : Physically or extensively, Mr. Cleveland is con- 
fined to the Capitol ; yet intensively, that is, as the head 
of the Government with all its implications, he is to all 
intents and purposes omnipresent in every part and to 
every individual citizen of the nation. 

The question of the existence of God, in involving 
all the apparent contradictions of mind, has been thus 
extensively noticed as the best and highest test of the 
distinction in question. It shows, beyond peradventure, 
that the distinction is true, natural, and far more impor- 
tant than that of Leibnitz, which distinguishes between 
a priori and empirical knowledge. Further on it will 
be supplemented and corroborated by other evidence, 
from an entirely different and disinterested source ; not 
because the distinction needs other proof, but because 
other new questions will bring out said new evidence. 
But the distinction itself was resorted to as the best 
and most decisive method for curtailing the officiousness 
of discursive intellect; and this, again, to aid in deriving 
all intelligence from sense. So that, in the next chapter, 
we can return to another aspect of the main inquiry. 



THE SELF: WHAT IS IT ? 71 

CHAPTEE IV. 

Intuitive or Sense Cognition. 

At the very best it is hard to trace discursive intellect 
directly back to a sense origin. At present, in fact, and 
until some other investigations are made, it can not be 
pursued any further with advantage. In excluding it 
from the positive and most important sphere of the ob- 
jects of cognition, the question is constantly recurring : 
Let intellect be so excluded — yet so far we have had no 
other cognitive power as distinguished from it except 
sense intuition — and is it to be understood that sense 
cognition is the only other, and that, besides having sole 
jurisdiction in the positive, it goes also with impunity 
into the comparative sphere ? What, in short, are the 
grounds or reasons for the claims of sense cognition, see- 
ing that it represents all the cognitive power of mind 
except that of restricted intellect? Such questions are 
in high time, and, being altogether pertinent, must be 
answered before pursuing intellect any further. 

In turning to sense cognition, it is better to begin at 
the beginning, by replying to an objection which certain 
persons are ever prone to ask : How is it possible for 
sense, which is but blind feelingy to be endowed with 
such a thing as cognition ? This question grows out of 
two serious errors to begin with : 

(1) It implicitly assumes that an attribute of mind 
must already be cognitive in itself in order to be fitted 
for receiving cognition. But if it be already cognitive, 
then it is already cognitive, and as such needs no cogni- 



72 THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 

tion. The assumption confounds two things into one — 
that isj cognition per se and the attribute of cognition; 
it makes the flame and the wick of the lamp one and the 
same thing. Legitimately, the question implied in the 
objection is this : What are the requisites on the part of 
the wickj in order that it may support flame ? Then the 
objection implicitly answers : A lighted wick is needed 
as a prerequisite of a lighted wick; thus ever baulking 
the inquiry by assuming the v^ry thing to be accounted 
for. 

Instead, let it be asked : Before and apart from cog- 
nition, what are the prerequisites of an attribute in 
order to prepare it for receiving cognitive power ? This 
may be answered by still another question : Apart from 
cognition, what is there else in the mind wherewith to 
fit up said attribute for receiving cognition except sense 
traits or qualities? Absolutely nothing. Then any given 
attribute, as a preparation for cognition, must first pos- 
sess either sense qualities or nothing. 

But the killing reply to the objection is this : Why 
should any thing in the universe be endowed with cogni- 
tion except sense ? That is to say, no matter how^ poorly 
endowed sense itself may be, still for all that, it is the only 
conceivable thing in the universe which can be called a 
thing in and for itself; the only thing which can be 
called a Self or Ego. What else can be called a Self or 
Ego except sense? Absolutely nothing conceivable. 
Then sense being the first, last, and only thing claiming 
selfhood, and cognition being meanwhile but an instru- 
ment, it follows that sense must be the sole ground of 
cognition as well as of every other conceivable instru- 
mentality. 



THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 73 

Of course the word sense is here used generically, 
and in such respect simply imports that the sensibility 
of God is the prime and sole ground of all else, His 
intelligence being but an instrument thereof. The same 
relation must exist between the sensibility and intelli- 
gence of man. 

As regards the silly expression blind feeling , that also 
returns with damaging force on the objector. All cogni- 
tion, until it becomes able by experience to turn about 
and contemplate itself, is no more than so much blind 
instinct ; but it rarely attains to self-contemplation except 
in a very limited degree. Then if cognition itself is in 
a general way little else than blind instinct, though mean- 
while claiming to be the eye, why attach the odium of 
blindness to feeling? 

But (2) the objection seems also to assume it as a self- 
evident fact and according to common consent that sense 
is regarded as nothing else than blind feeling. This is 
AvhoUy untrue. It is true, however, that a few writers 
in discussing idealism, or some such question in which 
their prejudices are inflamed, do sometimes, in distin- 
guishing between sensation and perception, call sensation 
a blind feeling. But, on the other hand, the highest 
philosophical authorities as well as universal common 
usage hold precisely the opposite view. Explain on any 
other ground the common expressions : a man of sense, 
superior sense, sensible, primitive sense, sound and natural 
sense, common sense, and so on. And what about the 
five senses ? Many philosophers hold that all true knowl- 
edge comes through these; insomuch, that all knowledge 
not so coming is worthless until tested by one of the five. 

So much fo_r the objection. It may be next noted 



74 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 

that the general and fundamental principles of all knowl- 
edge are grounded in sense. Those original principles 
that the Scotch philosophers called primitive, which 
Kant called a priori, and which are in fact the founda- 
tion pillars of all cognition, are all realized in the mind 
as feelings rather than as cognitions. 

The principle of cause and effect for example, a chief 
and indispensable principle in all reasoning, is by com- 
mon consent a priori, being both a universal and neces- 
sary truth. Yet Hume has shown conclusively, and 
nobody denies it, that there is no reason in knowledge 
for asserting that an effect must necessarily follow from a 
cause. It is a necessity realized in feeling and not in cog- 
nition. We know it and know it necessarily, as commonly 
said ; yet the knowing is a feeling and not a cognition. 

The necessity of accepting the proposition 2+ 2 = 4, 
or of any self-evident truth whatever in mathematics, is 
a felt and not a thought necessity. We knoio in all cases 
that which we feel with more certainty than that which 
we thinh. In a word, all primary and self-evident truth 
is inexplicable and incognizable to intellect, while the 
strongest conviction of any truth whatever is always to 
be found in feeling rather than in thinking. 

These undeniable facts, showing that all the founda- 
tions and frame- work of knowledge are grounded in 
sense, prove beyond question the one idea of this vol- 
ume, viz., that mind and sense are identical words. But 
it is desirable to see more into the details of this im- 
portant truth ; so that the victory will not be claimed 
yet, especially in view of the much still remaining to be 
said by way of curtailing the claims of discursive in- 
tellect. 



THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 75 

To study the dawn of sense intelligence as first mani- 
fested in practical life, refer back to the chapter on moral 
cognition ; or what is yet better, let those not satisfied 
on the subject study themselves. It will be found that 
every sense, from the lowest to the highest, is endowed 
with a cognition sufficient and peculiar to itself. That 
said cognition is not discursive is obvious from the fact 
that it will receive no dictation from intellect as to what 
is sweet, acid, beautiful, good, etc. Also that a number 
of these cognitive powers — as taste, conscience, etc. — 
not only mount high above intellect, but often employ 
the latter as a mere "hewer of wood and drawer of 
water. ^' 

But what about those varied and brilliant phases of 
sense cognition represented by such words as these : Wit, 
humor, satire, sarcasm, burlesque, prudence, comedy, trag- 
edy, military genius — yes, military genius, and wdiat not? 
How many more might be added? Yet these spring 
directly from sense, nor do they show a vestige of dis- 
cursive quality. Now add taste and conscience to the 
list. Then again, look back at the endless host of men 
and women made illustrious by one or the other of these 
cognitive sense powers. Blot out the names of these 
illustrious personages and truly the history of the past 
would be a desert. 

It is readily admitted, says one, that sense cognition 
is far more brilliant and beautiful than that of discursive 
intellect. But brilliancy and strength are two different 
things; quite as different as rhetoric and logic. Sense 
has no reasoning power ; no matter how brilliant and dis- 
criminating its intuitions may be, it has no logical power. 
In answer it may be said without qualification, that this 



76 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 

is the grandest mistake of all. The several statements 
may be summed up and discussed in this one inquiry : 
Where does logic originate — whether in sense or in 
intellect ? 

We can not think at all without some object to think 
about. There must be a subject who thinks and an ob- 
ject which is thought. As subject and object they are 
two distinct things and stand in opposition or antithesis; 
and which justifies the further statement, that no thought 
is possible without two antithetical terms. We can not 
think the conception existence, for example, without its 
antithesis, non-existence ; can not think of light, without 
darkness ; of right, without wrong ; of up, without down, 
etc. This further suggests that every thing is in some 
way related to other things ; nothing can stand isolated 
and wholly unrelated to something else. It will also be 
found on reflection, that any two antithetical objects may 
converge to unity in some third term more general than 
themselves. Black and white, for example, are two as- 
pects of one thing called color. This third term — that 
is, color — is called the ground of relation, or principle 
of synthetical unity, whereby the other two are united. 

Thus we have the three terms or principles which 
constitute the prime foundations of logic: (1) subject; 
(2) object; (3) ground of relation. Some call them, 
Ego, non-Ego, and ground. Logicians usually call them, 
identity, opposition, and ground. Others again, thesis, 
antithesis, and synthesis. Though differently named, and 
sometimes employed with slight difference according to 
occasion, yet the four groups are the same in essential 
respects. 

The first term, of no matter which group, gives us 



THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 77 

what are called the principles of identity; the second, 
those of analysis; the third, those of synthesis; from 
and along with which three spring forth, deduction, in- 
duction, abstraction, etc., with all the other instruments 
of reasoning. The three terms of the syllogism, for ex- 
ample, which is the general form of reasoning, being 
reversed, personify the three terms of the above formula. 

Though each of the three terms involves principles 
peculiar to itself, yet all three combined may, with pro- 
priety, be called but one great principle, with fully as 
much propriety as a triangle may be called one. It is, 
in short, a trinity in unity principle, and as such may 
be called one ; at all events it will be much more con- 
venient to handle, in searching for the origin of logic, to 
call it simply the logical principle. Then the next ques- 
tion is to find out where this logical principle originates : 
where are its first or most germinal manifestations to 
be seen ? 

It is not irrelevant, yet meanwhile it will be inter- 
esting to turn aside a little just here and see how the 
logical principle was employed by two of the great Ger- 
man philosophers. Fichte, the immediate successor of 
Kant, employed it in such a way as to leave the infer- 
ence that if it did not originate from, it was at any rate 
primarily and mainly intended to solve the problem of 
idealism ; that is, intended for the synthetical unification 
of mind and matter by means of the principle limitation 
as a third term; and which limitation resulted from the 
principle divisibility. 

Hegel, the fourth in the series, employed it as though 
its highest and most appropriate purpose was to illustrate 
and confirm the doctrine of Trinity in Unity as respects 



78 THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 

the Godhead. It is impossible^ as he says, to have any 
properly intelligible conception of God except as a Trin- 
ity in Unity; and accordingly that a one God, in the 
pure and abstract sense of oneness, like that of Moham- 
med, is simply no God at all ; at least that the concep- 
tion of such a God is blank and dead. The inference is, 
in short, even allowing no God at all, we are none the 
less constrained by an essential constitution of mind to 
conceive of him as a Trinity in Unity. 

But he continues on the same line of thought: Man 
in his primal innocence was one with God. Thus iden- 
tified lie could not be free, could not be free as an indi- 
vidual, distinct from God. Such freedom necessitated 
an alienation or fall from God. But in that fall, though 
realizing a free individuality, his antithesis to God — a 
diverging estrangement — was so intense, and he mean- 
while so helpless, that he must have gone to ulter wreck 
without some extraneous power to reconcile and reunify 
him with God. In this exigency a Christ became both 
a moral and philosophical necessity, as the third or syn- 
thetical term of unification. 

The objection consequently, that the world has already 
had sixteen crucified Christs, proves too much for its 
own good ; it goes to confirm HegePs position that the 
Christ idea is natural and ineradicable in the mind's 
essential constitution. It also goes to disparage those 
objections which claim that the teachings of Jesus were 
anticipated by various wise men. For while such con- 
currence of doctrine simply goes to confirm truth in any 
given case, yet the necessity for a third term of unifica- 
tion on the one hand, with the additional fact that Jesus 
was more eminently qualified than any other, must con- 



THE SELF: WHAT IS IT ? 79 

stitute him said third term, at least until one of higher 
chiims may come. 

The reason of this apparent digression is for the sake 
of Hegel's authority in the fact that the highest exem- 
plification of the logical principle is of a moral kind ; 
for the two instances above would come philosophically 
under the moral category. But the moral is predicable 
of sense only, and thus the highest manifestation of the 
logical principle is found to be in sense. This brings us 
back to the original inquiry, but, as the chapter is get- 
ting long and will not stop soon, it is well to have a 
resting place before resuming the inquiry. 



WHAT IS THE EAELIEST MANIFESTATION OF THE 
LOGICAL PRINCIPLE? 

It will hardly be possible to give an earlier manifes- 
tation than that already indicated in one of the chapters 
respecting causal activity. Taking the one word deshx 
to personify all sensibility, it was there seen as an indis- 
pensable prerequisite to causality that desire is endowed 
with a dual activity ; an activity endowed with the addi- 
tional activity of self-prompting. Thus we have, (1) 
activity, (2) self-activity, (3) desire as the synthetical 
term. It is not possible to go back of this and find a 
still earlier practical manifestation of the trinal prin- 
ciple. 

After and apart from the conception activity as an 
abstract form, and looking to its content simply, may be 
seen another and a different manifestation of the princi- 
ple. Thus : (1) Desire ; (2) Object desired ; (3) Grati- 
fication. Conscience is no exception in this case ; for 



80 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 

being but a desire for the morally good, it realizes grati- 
fication as any other sense in realizing the morally good. 

Now mark, that it is in this latter respect, that is in 
respect to content, that intellect or any other phase of 
cognition first manifests the trinal principle properly. 
To be sure, cognitive activity as an abstract form also 
involves trinality, but cognition per se being purely in- 
strumental, its activity is necessarily derived from sense 
as the causal element of mind. Hence it can not be said 
to properly manifest trinality until the second instance, 
and which respects content simply. It has already been 
stated, as respects content, that no thought, not the least 
conceivable, is possible without involving trinality. But 
this signifies nothing as to the point of priority. 

It is hence unquestionable that the germ roots of 
logic are deep down in sense. A better personification 
of the trinal principle can not be conceived of than that 
of sense. Its birth, its existence, the warp and woof of 
its essence, but exemplify trinality, insomuch that it can 
not breathe or act in the least degree without acting out 
the logical principle. If ttirned out loose to act without 
any specific object, still, like the tread-mill horse, it 
would describe its logical circle ; it is constitutionally 
necessitated to so act, and could not, even if it would, 
act otherwise. 

It may be noted here that all objects of cognition, 
whether of nature, or art, or otherwise, illustrate the 
trinal principle. This, of course, is positively neces- 
sary; for if they did not, then, in not being so adapted 
to our minds, they could not be objects of cognition 
for us. 

In order to a larger or more visible manifestation of 



THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 81 

the principle, it is better to look higher up in sense. 
Rather, instead of taking sense in the aggregate under 
the one conception desire, let it be considered as divided; 
that is, conscience on the one side and all the remaining 
senses on the other, and in some sort arrayed against 
conscience. Not arrayed by concerted action or agree- 
ment, though each one being solely for itself, it amounts 
almost to a concerted opposition to conscience in the 
end, which latter stands ever ready to oppose the impro- 
prieties of each one or all together. 

This antithesis between moral right and wrong at 
once presents a great battle-field, where the giant minds 
of all the past have fought for victory. Indeed it is 
and has been a battle-field for all men ; insomuch, it 
would be no extravagance to call it a sort of Ther- 
mopylae which blockades the great highway of human 
experience, and where, withal, every man must prove 
himself to be a Leonidas, else run away. 

To be sure, physical and intellectual interests are not 
distinctly involved in this great conflict ; yet considered 
apart from it, such interests have no worth or signifi- 
cance. Moral, social, religious, and political interests 
represents the prize at stake. These, with their impli- 
cations — virtue and vice, freedom and slavery, civiliza- 
tion and barbarism, God and Devil — represent the sum 
total of human interests. 

The adjudication of this great issue, the unification of 
these two great antithetical terms — right and wrong — 
has been, as just said, the great problem of all truly great 
minds. And how does the matter stand when submitted 
to logical formula? We have : (1) Conscience as supreme 
authority; (2) Opposing sense in antithesis; and (3) — 



82 THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 

Pray what? What third term can synthetically unite the 
first two ? Certainly not the conception happiness. The 
sleepless occupation of each sense is to seek its own indi- 
vidual happiness, regardless of every thing else. This 
very fact, in truth, is the ground of all the trouble. Be- 
sides, conscience could never submit to the happiness 
compromise. 

The same may be said of expediency, idility, and all 
the other infamous doctrines of rationalism. For, in 
all such cases, the first question coming up, is : What is 
happiness, utility, expediency, etc., in this or that issue ? 

Incalculably better than any of these is the concep- 
tion moral right. So far it is the best and highest princi- 
ple employed in jurisprudence for the adjustment of civil 
issues. Besides, it may serve in most civil relations as a 
sufficient subjectiv^e rule for one's own conduct. But 
when, as often in jurisprudence, it is applied to the 
exterior and complex relations of life, it proves too 
vague. Thus: (1) I as subject; (2) my neighbor as 
object; (3) we are one in moral right. This would be 
good enough, if the morally right could always be 
known ; but the question is often recurring, what is 
right in this or that case? Nobody knows and nobody 
can know in many complicated cases. Hence, in default 
of a decisive test in many cases, litigation holds its ground 
and ever keeps the door wide open to that final and 
frightful tribunal — ^^ might is right.^' 

But, however indispensable civil laws with their test 
of moral right may be, they do not represent the highest 
issues in human character. The civil itself is involved 
and controlled by other issues still higher ; higher issues, 
which, like gravitation and other greater powers of na- 



THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 83 

tare, though silent and invisible to the vulgar eye, nev- 
ertheless rule the world^s destiny. These higher issues 
themselves needed to be adjudicated, as well as it was 
meanwhile needed to drive this devil — might is right — 
as nearly as possible out of the world. The groaning 
ages have felt the need ; and as proof, the best and the 
greatest minds of the ages have wrought at the great 
problem. 

Justinian with all his painstaking could not mend the 
matter ; Buddha and Confucius, like all the other sages, 
wrought in vain. But Jesus condensed all the com- 
mandments, all the laws and principles of right and 
wrong into the one simple word love : " Thou shalt love 
thy neighbor as thyself.^' Which submitted to the form- 
ula runs thus : (1) I as subject; (2) my neighbor as ob- 
ject ; (3) we are one in love. There is no ambiguity 
about this. It is simple enough for all to understand; 
and it will moreover prove an infallible solvent in all 
issues in which it may be employed. 

This principle is not only an adequate ground for 
morals and religion, but it is the only means whereby 
the world will ever be able to realize that much coveted 
and often dreamed of something, called political free- 
dom in its full measure. If there be any principle more 
purifying for the individual heart, or more powerful as a 
cohesive influence in binding society into unity, than the 
principle of love, then whoever finds that higher and 
better principle will supersede Jesus. But that some- 
thing is not likely to be found, unless mind is thoroughly 
reconstructed and some essentially new element be added 
to its present endowments. 

As an upshot, this problem, which is the highest 



84 THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 

and most important that ever interested the world and 
as a result called forth more entirely than any other all 
the logical powers of mind, is almost wholly a problem 
of sense, from beginning to end. The problem origi- 
nated in sense; the discussion was conducted by sense; 
and its two highest solutions — moral right and love — 
were achieved by the same means. Only the rationalis- 
tic questions referred to were of a discursive kind ; and 
of course they were, and all such always must be failures 
upon issues of this kind. The antithesis in question is 
wholly outside the discursive sphere. 

It was deemed better on many accounts to trace logic 
back to its primal germ as manifested in sense. But for 
this, it would have sufficed in the outset to have remem- 
bered that the higher aspects of mathematical reasoning 
consist solely of sense intuitions. Also to have remem- 
bered, as stated in the outset, that the foundation princi- 
ples of all knowledge are grounded in sense ; and which, 
together with all other truths, are realized m feeling and 
not by thinking. In short, what we have been calling 
intuition or sense cognition is what many persons call 
reason in distinction to discursive intellect; only they 
seem in some sort to place reason aloof from and inde- 
pendent of sense. Instead, no intelligence can exist 
independently of or originate otherwise than directly 
from sense, as will be seen little by little. 

Then, sense is the thinker, the reasoner, the logic- 
maker. So that, instead of asking: How is it possible 
for sense to reason ? it would be more appropriate to 
ask : How is it possible for any thing to reason except 
sense ? In literal truth nothing else can reason, unless 
at the command or in behoof of sense. 



THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 85 

CHAPTER V. 

Discursive or Intellectual Cognition. 

Time and again it has been stated that there are but 
two great species of cognition, discursive and intuitive. 
Let lis hold to and follow out this plain, natural, and 
unerring distinction in order to avoid straying off and 
getting lost by the dubious paths of naming and defin- 
ing special faculties. 

The last chapter was intended simply to give a fuller 
and clearer view of what is implied in sense or intuitive 
cognition. It can now be seen how said cognition ought 
to be fully adequate to all that has hitherto been tacitly 
ascribed to it ; and, in a word, that it represents all cog- 
nition except the discursive only, and which latter, as 
seen so far, represents simply the principle of compari- 
son with its implications. Meanwhile, let it still and 
ever be borne in mind that the distinguishing trait of 
sense or intuitive cognition is to perceive or intuit dif- 
ferences, while that of the comparative or discursive is 
to measure differences. 

Having in the last chapter brought up the intuitive 
side of the inquiry, it now remains to resume the in- 
quiry respecting this discursive side. To do this prop- 
erly, truth requires that the discursive or intellectual 
faculty be credited as well as debited with whatever the 
merits of the case may indicate. This again will require 
a sort of zig-zag or desultory proceeding, so that it is 
perhaps the better plan to cut up the chapter into sec- 
tions, and as a start first notice 

7 



86 THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 

IMITATION. 

No trait of mind at once so general and influential on 
practical life as that of imitation has yet received so 
little notice. What is imitation, or rather what is its 
origin ? It is not properly a something per se, but rather 
a mode or function of something. It implies cognition, 
but no feeling or sense trait as distinguished from cogni- 
tion. It is not even suggestive of sense except that of 
taste, and which clearly results from a confusion of con- 
ceptions. 

Taste properly does not imitate ; instead, its most 
essential trait is to develop beauty from itself. Imita- 
tion is the directly opposite in this all-essential respect. 
Taste gives or loans to others, imitation copies or bor- 
rows from others. Taste is spontaneous, while imitation 
is reflected light. 

But look sharply at imitation and the mist soon van- 
ishes. What is copying or imitating but an attempt to 
reproduce a given original by virtue of resemblance, and 
which latter is accomplished by means of comparison or 
mensuration. Evidently similitude by means of com- 
parison is the upshot of imitation, which necessarily 
makes it a discursive or intellectual trait. The result 
becomes more and more certain the further we look into 
the conception imitation and see all its implications. 

Under the head of imitation as genus comes the con- 
ception ritualism as species, with its varied contents. 
Ritualizing only means a copying or imitating of the 
real or original; as, for instance, the letter of the law is 
but a copy of the spirit of the law. Ritualism simply 
results from an attempt of discursive intellect to copy or 



THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 87 

imitate with its divisible elements those things which are 
real and indivisible. 

Then again, the conceptions, imitation or ritual, 
either one or both, yield the conception illusion. Illu- 
sion is but the taking of a resemblance, a copy, a sym- 
bol, or other appearance for the real or original thing 
itself. Moreover, it is not possible to deduce illusion 
from any other trait of mind. We have already had a 
glimpse of illusion in the antinomies, but that was only 
a trifle as compared with the boundless regions now and 
here presented to view. We find ourselves all at once 
in a land of dreams, phantasies, and make-believes gen- 
erally. No inch of this territory, as will also be shown 
further on, belongs to that something called imagination, 
as commonly supposed ; that claim itself is an illusion. 
Instead, this boundless territory of imitation, ritual, and 
illusion, all belong solely to discursive intellect. 

To give a clear and well-defined geography of this 
territory is altogether out of the question, a large and 
whole volume would not suffice ; and, indeed, the very 
thought is bewildering. Letting general hints suffice, it 
may be said that this principle of imitation in one or an- 
other of its aspects runs through every vein and artery 
of practical human life. It shows itself in the earliest 
dawn of childhood, as in the dolls of little girls and the 
mimic houses of little boys. It continues on up to 
womanhood and manhood, rarely if ever disappearing 
before death. The rich and the poor, the wise and the 
silly, the vicious and the virtuous, all partake of it to a 
greater or less degree. 

Religion is often supposed to be more burdened with 
ritual than any thing else; whereas, in truth, it is per- 



88 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 

haps less burdened than any. Quite ninety-nine hun- 
dredths of the elements implied in what is called fash- 
ionable life are pure ritual. It is equally plain that the 
larger proportion of practice in civil courts turns upon 
th(j ritual of equity rather than upon its spirit. As to 
politicians, it is rare, indeed, if in a life-time they get 
one glimpse of other than the mere ritual of the pub- 
lic weal. As a class dudes never think or aspire to 
any thing higher than a mere make-believe of respecta- 
bility. Upon the whole the large majority of society 
seem to care and think only about the symbols and imi- 
tations of reality rather than reality itself. Of course, 
philosophy, which professes to be searching for the very 
heart of reality, is wholly free from this nuisance. In- 
stead, philosophy is the identical house in which ritualism 
sets up its headquarters and spreads its banners to the 
breeze : learned words and phrases, rigmarole nomen- 
clature, severe and dignified style, with many like gew- 
gaws, which hide rather than exhibit true wisdom. 

But ritualism being so universal, the trouble is not so 
much to find it out as to find one single spot altogether 
free from it. There is no such spot, unless, perchance, 
you can find some spot where Reality is not and never 
has been. Believe it you may, wherever Reality is or 
has been there ritual will be with its symbols. If Re- 
ality but haste through a desert, its path will be marked 
with symbols. Whereas, if for the sake of resting a 
little spell, Reality should take up temporary lodgings 
in any place, right there symbols and the whole brood 
of make-believes will by and by accumulate to such a 
degree that Reality, if not literally smothered, is at least 
altogether hidden from public view; so that presently 



THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 89 

some say Reality is asleep, or may be dead and gone for- 
ever. Others again will have the boldness to affirm that 
there never was any Reality from the beginning; the 
whole business is a humbug and make-believe all the 
way through. 

This latter is the serious aspect of the magical some- 
thing in question ; not its life-like pictures, so skillfully 
wrought as to pass for the original, so much as the mul- 
titude of masques and symbols which presently hide the 
original from view. Attaching to and growing, so to 
say, as a parasite on every living reality, it soon hides the 
reality like a certain kind of moss, which, once started, 
soon hides the splendid trees on whose boughs it lives 
and depends. Yet all such illusions spring from imita- 
tion and ritual, while these again constitute a sort of 
magic lantern in the hand of discursive intellect, with 
which it would thus fain turn every thing real into a 
kind of mockery ; for look, or turn, or go wherever you 
may, there is intellect with this will-o^-the-wisp lantern, 
making existence appear as an outright masquerade. ' 

With such magical powers it requires but little cun- 
ning on the part of intellect to work wonders. With 
only a few strokes of the hammer it can expand one 
single atom of matter to infinity, and thus make a pic- 
ture, though not true, yet in some sort rivaling the great 
Creator himself. And it can imitate so on down to the 
least reality in existence, so sufficiently at least that its 
imitations pass, as we have seen, for the original in 
many instances. No wonder then that certain zealots, 
becoming enthused, sometimes cry out: Matter is God! 
Physical Science is his Gospel, and Intellect the great 
High Priest. 



90 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 

Intellect is truly enough a high priest ; but, as here 
seen, it is a high priest of ritual — appearances, symbols, 
jugglery, magic, and what not in the way of illusion. 

Sartor Resartus is a masterly picture of some aspects 
of this same subtile and eel-like something. All the 
"old clothes^' flapping througliout its sunshiny pages 
but represent another aspect of the same thing. Teu- 
felsdrockh, indeed, Avas quite a Hercules in the way of 
disenchanting this wonder land. 

How it is that w^e thus seem naturally prone to be 
hoodwinked, and to go through life as if it were but a 
sort of fooPs errand at most, is not an easy question to 
answer. We can not know every thing; however, in the 
absence of precise data respecting the curious and exten- 
sive phenomena in question, and especially in view of 
the magical and bewildering character of the phe- 
nomena, it would seem no harm to indulge in hy- 
pothesis, even hypothesis of a dreamy kind, like the 
phenomena. With such license the curious enigma may 
be handled somewhat in this way : 

Primarily just as it now is, mind was pure and sim- 
ple reality — august reality, without the least foreign or 
fictitious relationship. For some reason, a reason of the 
Great Father, mind imagined a need of something for- 
eign wherewith to beguile itself along the endless round 
of the ages, and hereupon was married to matter — mar- 
ried to a physical body. This was a hard match be- 
tween mind and body on many accounts. So, to mend 
matters as well as might be, intellect was thrown in as a 
.sort of marriage dowery. Indeed it was indispensable. 
The couple spoke different languages, and could never 
have understood one another without intellect as inter- 



THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 91 

preter. Besides^ it was needed to have intellect con- 
stantly on hand to expound and extol the many beauties 
and the great worth of matter as a means of mitigating 
its many foreign and outlandish traits. 

This is an imaginary picture ; but it is true, at least, 
as respects representing intellect in a just and proper 
light. Evidently, but for physical existence — the mar- 
riage of mind to matter — there had been no need of in- 
tellect ; so that its gew-gaws, its illusions, its make- 
believes are in some sort indispensable in reconciling us 
to the present regime of existence. Some of the old 
philosophers are said to have despised their own physical 
bodies ; and so might most of us do but for the deceitful 
trifles strewn along the way by this juggling intellect. 

It is true that intellect is indispensable to our phys- 
ical maintenance, but its worth consists mainly in recon- 
ciling us to such existence. The chief value of all its 
illusions seems to be to constitute a sort of fringe 
or border work, intended for the express purpose of 
hiding the otherwise ragged and ugly chasm between 
mind and body — between reality and appearance. Or, 
in other words, intellect is a sort of paper hanger, who 
aims with his showy prints to hide the cracks and cran- 
nies as well as the ugly mildewed walls of our earthly 
house. The evident tendency is to beget a feeling of 
kinship and sympathy between the mind and the body ; 
while otherwise mind, sober and at itself, would spurn 
such a companionship. 

The trouble, however, seems to be that intellect often 
overdoes its work. Some persons go through life as if 
the body were all in all, while, if they have any serious 
doubts, such doubts refer to the reality of mind. For- 



92 THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 

getting that pinch-beck imitations presuppose a genuine 
metal, they take the pinch-beck or outside part of life as 
the only real. In such cases the illusions were too in- 
tense, too much in earnest, and passed for genuine reali- 
ties. 

Though, as a final result, no new attribute has been 
found for intellect, it is seen that its one trait of com- 
parison is quite a magical one ; quite as expansive in- 
deed as its materials, matter, time, and space. Let us 
allow all its just claims; for presently we will begin 
again to strip it of several unjust ones. Let us next 
turn to the 

CATEGORIES. 

When Locke uses the one word, understanding, to 
represent all the cognitive powers, and Emerson uses 
the one word, reason, to represent the whole mind, we 
can easily comprehend them. But when Kant uses the 
word understanding, sometimes like Locke, and at other 
times the word reason like Emerson, yet at still other 
times discriminates sharply between the two, to say 
nothing of sometimes confounding them as one in prac- 
tice, it becomes difficult to say precisely what he meant 
by the word understanding. But in the introduction to 
the Critique, which is a carefully-worded and a well- 
condensed statement of his doctrines, he regards all 
cognition as of two kinds — sense and understanding. 
This, as well as the general drift of his writings, war- 
rants the assumption that by the word understanding he 
generally meant the discursive faculty as herein em- 
ployed ; so that the division herein made of all cog- 



» 



THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 93 

nition into intuitive and discursive concurs precisely 
with his. 

In view of this general concurrence, he claims alto- 
gether too much for the understanding, assuming it to 
be the discursive faculty as just indicated. He employs 
the functions of judgment as a clew in the deduction of 
the categories, which, together with nearly all the prin- 
ciples and processes of cognition, were sooner or later, 
directly or indirectly, identified with the understanding. 
But our distinction between intuitive and discursive cog- 
nition, and in which he concurs, makes such procedure 
wholly unwarrantable, too obviously unwarrantable to 
be discussed beyond the bare noting. 

With regard to the categories, the matter is not so 
clear; for while on the one hand, according to his con- 
struction, the categories amount to little else than mere 
appurtenances of mensuration ; yet, on the other, they 
involve principles which are impossible — that is, as 
being native to the understanding, allowing it to be the 
discursive faculty. As one instance, after showing con- 
clusively — and it was his favorite doctrine — that time 
and space are native to sense intuition, he turns about 
and makes them also native to the understanding, though 
indirectly, thus : The categories are native to the under- 
standing, but some of the categories involve time and 
space conceptions to an essential degree — cause and 
effect as belonging to the categories, for example, involve 
succession or time. 

Time being native to either one, could well enough 
be communicated and rendered practically subservient to 
the other ; but that is quite different from being native 
to both. So then, either the understanding must relin- 



94 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 

quish the categories in so far as they involve time and 
space conceptions^ else sense intuition must give them 
up. But the latter is out of the question ; above all 
others, sense intuition, as involving time and space, Avas 
Kant's favorite doctrine. Besides, here is mathematics, 
almost purely intuitional^ meanwhile having time and 
space as its chief materials. 

Upon the whole, perhaps no good reason can be 
shown for giving the categories, as constructed by Kant, 
specifically either to sense intuition or to the understand- 
ing; but of the two the claims of intuition are far bet- 
ter. Why not ? The eye for example, besides its prime 
purpose of vision, is also endowed Avith what might be 
called the category of color ; and somewhat in the same 
way it might be claimed that intuition involves the 
categories. Indeed, in an indirect sense there can be no 
doubt of this. For most of the categories being incom- 
parable and fundamental principles of mind, necessarily 
belong, according to Kant's own admission in other 
places, not to the understanding, but to sense cognition, 
or, as he calls it, to reason. But intuition — not of one 
simply, but of all the senses — is the one great and all- 
seeing eye of the mind, and hence may be said to involve 
and represent every thing in the mind, somewhat as 
vision represents the whole physical eye. In this sense 
at least intuition involves the categories. 

However, it is but just to state, that though Kant 
from first to last takes it for granted and everywhere 
assumes that the categories belong to the understanding, 
yet he has nowhere made a specific proof of said assump- 
tion ; he simply took it for granted, without any special 
investigation. Besides, even admitting all that he as- 



THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 95 

Slimes respecting the categories, yet, since he construes 
them to be little else than instruments of mensuration, 
his assumptions do not imply at last any claim in behalf 
of discursive intellect other than that implied in simple 
comparison. Nothing in short but comparison is to be 
found for discursive cognition in the categories ; and it 
was for this that they were referred to. 

THE FIVE SENSES. 

It is well understood that discursive cognition is re- 
stricted to the comparative sphere of measurable objects. 
It may now be noted in addition, that even in its own 
vsphere it is literally helpless without the aid of the five 
senses, and which latter are intuitive. It depends solely 
upon them for its materials. Otherwise it would be as 
worthless as a wagon without wheels; for, according to 
common consent, all discursive operations not grounded 
on and verified by sense intuition amount to no more 
than so much dreaming. But mark again, the five 
senses — its sole dependence — are themselves restricted 
to matter, space, and time objects ; so that discursive 
cognition is seen to be doubly incapacitated for hand- 
ling objects of the positive sphere : (1) The five senses, 
its sole dependence, can not intuit such objects; (2) even 
having such objects, it could not compare them. 

Of course it is always understood that discursive 
processes imply a certain reasoning power, and other 
capacities essential in comparison; also, in view of the 
varied practical and reciprocal relations among the attri- 
butes of mind, each one may in some sort and to some 
degree partake of the common fund of general knowl- 



96 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 

edge, indirectly and dimly at least. So that it is simply 
meant, as respects discursive cognition, that legimately 
and essentially it is doubly incapacitated from handling 
objects of the positive sphere. It may look at such 
objects from afar, as we look at the moon, and may even 
make symbols of them ; but that is the end of it. 

PHYSICAL SCIENCE. 

No special note is made of mathematics, because in 
all its higher aspects it is purely intuitive. In so far as 
discursive cognition is concerned, it is^ simply with the 
drudgery of mensuration ; and even in that respect it 
often gets merit for more than is due. That is, in many 
instances in mathematics differences are not measured as 
we carelessly assume, but simply intuited. 

It is in physical science, however, that intellect iinds 
its chief glory, in modern times at least. Let its claims 
be examined then in this respect. As stated before, 
one of the first and most serious mistakes of the materi- 
alist is his constant aptness to reverse the causal prin- 
ciple. (1) He regards par^s as constitutive of wholes; 
that is, parts are causes and wholes are effects. God, for 
example, is an effect of atomic combinations as cause. 
(2) Once having a whole, said whole, though only a sym- 
bol of reality, is taken for the reality itself: for example, 
not the mind, but the physical body, a whole made up 
of parts, is the real man. 

(1) With regard to the first, it is self-evident that 
parts never can in any case make or constitute wholes. 
A whole may consist of parts ; but this is very different 
from being created by parts. The oak, though consist- 



THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 97 

ing of foliage, branches, etc., was not made by these; 
but rather originated in all its fullness from the acorn. 
This is but concurring with Plato's self-evident doctrine 
of ideas, which simply signifies : Without an acorn there 
could be no oak ; destroy the unit, and away goes the 
whole arithmetic ; cancel the proposition to construct 
space according to a rule, and we have no geometry. 
Just so precisely with every thing in existence ; each 
thing springs from some root idea or principle as its life 
essence, in which and by which it is just what it is. 
But this question, as before stated, will come up again, 
and will be more extensively noticed by and by. 

(2) With regard to the other or second mistake, it is 
in some sort a result of the first named ; for its absurd- 
ity is instantly seen by the statements just made regard- 
ing the first. That is, the visible oak is not the positive 
reality, but only a symbol of it : it is but a mantle woven 
by the essence of the acorn, wherewith to develop and 
adorn its invisible self. It is a point well agreed upon 
among sober and discriminating minds, that matter in its 
fullest sense can ultimately amount to nothing more than 
simple force. The veriest clod of dirt is what it is sim- 
ply by virtue of the cohesive or other force, which so 
wrought it : it is, in a word, a symbol of solidified force; 
or, in still other words, the illusive sheen of invisible 
force 

These several statements have been made as a means 
of getting at the question in hand, physical science. 
Then (1) it is assumed by the materialist, that any given 
science is made and constituted by a combination of 
parts — that is, facts gathered here, there, and yonder, 
from the physical world. (2) Being once a whole, it is 



98 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 

the reality standing aloof from and independent of mind. 
It is an oracle, some seem to think, which overtops mind ; 
so that by and by, when all the physical sciences are com- 
pletedj it is likely that altogether they will supersede 
God himself. 

But despite such extravagance, it is clear that every 
science must spring directly from some one root princi- 
ple, which, with all its divisions and subdivisions, is a 
pure off-spring from mind ; and hence could have no 
existence apart from mind any more than the twig could 
exist apart from its parent stem. 

Of course physical objects may often suggest, and 
they do generally aid throughout in illustrating any sci- 
ence somewhat as a twig or other object may aid the 
spider in drawing out his web, but the web comes from 
the spider none the less. Just so physical objects aid the 
mind in dra^ving out a science, though such aid amounts 
to little else than simple illustration, whereby the mind 
is able to see externally and concretely that which would 
otherwise have remained dim in its interior and abstract 
form. But even assuming that matter has truths of its 
own unknown to mind, yet it is evident that mind must 
be presupposed to have said truths itself, else it could 
not apprehend them in matter any more than the eye 
could see colors unless already endowed with powers 
adequate thereto. Hence all science must of necessity 
spring from mind or not exist at all. 

If it be insisted that science does exist externally, as 
in books for example ; very well, rather than dispute 
about words, let it be admitted; but in that case it is 
only a symbol of that which is in the mind. Besides 
it can in no sense be said to exist independently of 



THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 99 

mind in respect of constituting an oracle above mind, as 
some seem to think. 

It follows from all this, as the result of the inquiry, 
that science, as indeed all knowledge, being a product of 
mind, is in the positive sphere ; and thus, being incom- 
parable, is from first to last, in all essential respects, be- 
yond the reach of discursive intellect. 

What, then, has intellect no share in science ? Only 
to this extent : It is employed in measuring time, space, 
and physical objects, and which latter themselves can 
mount no higher than mere illustrations or symbols of 
science; they can never in any essential sense constitute 
science. Besides, intellect may aid in various ways in 
fitting and adjusting said physical elements into an illus- 
tration or symbol of the given science. But said symbol 
is no more science essentially than the map on the wall 
is a literal United States. 

And this is about all that intellect can do legitimately 
in science. Out of its own sphere, however, it is gen- 
erally more consequential than at home. Very often, 
leaving the five senses behind, it starts out to build a 
science of its own by pure imitation, somewhat as chil- 
dren do who sometimes aspire to build houses with sand. 
As a result we presently hear of a new science which 
threatens to overturn all its predecessors as well as all 
the old usages and opinions of the present and past. 
One sharp glance, however, will show the new science to 
be mere dreaming — intellect at its old pranks again. 

As final in the way of restricting discursive intellect, 
it may be added that besides being, in common with all 
cognition, a mere instrument of sense, it is also and at 
the same time very generally an instrument of sense 



100 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 

cognition ; and which latter, being itself an instrument, 
would make intellect an instrument in a secondary sense ; 
that is, an instrument of an instrument. 



EESULT. 

At last we are not able to point out the precise spot 
where intellect springs forth from sense as its fountain, 
yet it amounts to much the same. 

If we allow sense to be endowed, as claimed by either 
one of the three propositions discussed in Part I, that 
one endowment alone, in the absence of the other two, 
would constitute it the self in essential respects. Now 
add to this intuitive cognition, which implies really all 
cognition- proper, and which springs directly from sense, 
then sense becomes the all in all of mind except dis- 
cursive cognition in the restricted aspect as seen. 

One of two alternatives follow of necessity, either 
intellect is a direct oiFshoot from sense or from sense cog- 
nition, or else it exists apart from and independent of 
mind. But the latter alternative would destroy the 
unity and integrity of mind, which leaves the former as 
the only one. 

Or it may be looked at this way : Suppose, for exam- 
ple, we see a tree-top just a little over and beyond the 
crest of the adjacent hill, we would never imagine the 
tree to be suspended in mid air simply because we can 
not see the precise spot where its roots take anchorage 
in the earth. One of two things must be true in the 
case, either the tree depends upon and is rooted in the 
earth, else the earth depends upon and is rooted in the 
tree. 



THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 101 

CHAPTER yi. 

A Notice of Several of Kant's Leading Doctrines. 

In an indirect and disinterested way, several of 
Kant's chief doctrines give strong support to the gen- 
eral drift of this volume. A notice of said doctrines 
will moreover give occasion for bringing out certain 
facts altogether indispensable as supplementary to the 
foregoing. The Critique contains two chief and central 
doctrines around which all others rally. It would not 
be straining the matter to say that these two doctrines 
are not often wholly forgotten in the pages of the Ethics, 
so that even from foreign parts supplies are sent to these 
two favorites. 

One of these doctrines represents Kant's greatest suc- 
cess, the other his greatest failure. The first or success- 
ful one was his doctrine of sense intuition; the second or 
fatal one w^as the restriction of said intuition to the five 
senses, and the additional restriction of these latter to 
time, space, and matter. By the first he wrested phi- 
losophy from the embrace of materialism ; by the second 
he virtually restored it to that unnatural embrace. 

To be sure the prime motive of the Critique was to 
answer Hume, who held substantially with Locke that 
all knowledge is derived from experience. But Kant 
proceeds to show just the reverse, viz., that without cer- 
tain native or a priori knowledge, experience itself is 
impossible. That is, there can be no experience without 
matter, no matter without space, no space without sense 
intuition, which latter must therefore antecede space, 

8 



102 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 

matter, and experience, and hence must necessarily be 
native born to the mind. Or thus, you could not see 
two objects, say two houses side by side, in space unless 
the mind already had capacity to apprehend space; and 
which space anteceding matter, and matter anteceding 
experience, makes experience impossible except on the 
ground of a pinori knowledge. 

Thus stumbling, as it were, upon the doctrine of sense 
intuition in his reply to Hume, it thenceforth became his 
chief and favorite doctrine. That sense intuition was 
indeed his favorite doctrine is a statement of such mag- 
nitude as to need explanation before going any further. 
Kant often states that the ^' Possibility of a 'priori syn- 
thetical judgment constitutes the Universal Problem of 
Pure Reason." But this problem was a result of his 
time and space doctrines, and these again in turn re- 
sulted from the doctrine of sense intuition. This by 
itself is ample proof of the statement, but it w^ill become 
evident from the drift of this thought as we proceed. 
Besides, only on this assumption is there any satisfactory 
clew to the treasures of the Critique. 

To proceed then, his demonstration that time and 
space are a priori forms of sense intuition, and could not 
otherwise be conceived of, Avas masterly to the highest 
degree. As to a so-called intellectual perception, he de- 
nied it throughout. He did not specially attempt to 
disprove it, and properly enough too; for it is plainly 
seen that there is neither room nor need for such percep- 
tion in the mind. As stated in the last chapter, intellect 
is itself wholly dependent on the five senses — that is, on 
sense intuition; and being thus necessitated to borrow 
in this respect for its own purposes, it could have noth- 
ing to loan to others. 



THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 103 

However, though Kant's victory over Hume was both 
decisive and brilliant, it was also quick and short; he 
soon forgot Hume. And though he continued to deal 
with other aspects and elements of a priori knowledge — 
all looking true enough in the direction of Hume — yet 
these, together with all knowledges, arguments, and in- 
fluences, were henceforth made subservient to one or the 
other of the doctrines indicated ; that is, the vindication 
of sense intuition, or its restriction to the five senses. 

The upshot of his first and favorite doctrine is this : 
It is not possible to know any object, whether within or 
without the mind, until said object is first perceived or 
intuited; and there can be no perception or intuition 
but that of sense. This is simple, undeniable, and of 
priceless worth to philosophy. But his second and dis- 
astrous doctrine was : There is no sense intuition ex- 
cept that of the five senses. 

It is all-important here in the outset to state that this 
second doctrine was only implicit, and not explicit. It 
was an inadvertent assumption, and not a studied or posi- 
tive proposition, although apparently maintained with 
more vehemence than the first. The paradox is expli- 
cable only on the ground that, having found the first doc- 
trine in his profound researches as indicated, he became 
so enthused as to be measurably oblivious to other doc- 
trines. On the other hand, for various reasons, there is 
a common proneness in theory only, however, to restrict 
perception to the five senses, and these again to matter. 
Kant doubtless had never thought specifically of this 
question, and hence assumed it blindly in common with 
others. Now then, exultant with his new doctrine of in- 
tuition on the one hand, and thoughtlessly assuming its 



104 THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 

restriction to the five senses on the other, he was ready 
to fight to the death in maintaining the consequences of 
both ; not ready to fight for the second per se, and for its 
own sake, but rather because it was assumed through in- 
advertency as an implication of the first. 

ThuSj the first doctrine says we can know nothing 
except by means of sense intuition ; the second — blindly 
assumed — says, sense intuition is restricted to the five 
senses — to matter, time, and space — which makes it im- 
possible to know God, mind, or any other of our higher 
interests. With his exposition, the first doctrine is 
simple and self-evident, so that the giant labor of the 
Critique was to defend the second, not for its own sake, 
but on the hasty assumption that it was an implication 
of the first. The first, and the first only, was his price- 
less jewel which he held with a deathless grip ; the sec- 
ond was a broken reed hastily snatched up with which 
to defend the first, but which, alas ! ever pierced himself. 
Of course, this seems quite paradoxical, but still it ex- 
plains an endless multitude of other paradoxes and con- 
tradictions otherwise inexplicable. That is, his marvel- 
ous philosophical powers, together with his manly and 
exalted moral character on the one hand, and the multi- 
tude of inconsistencies in the Critique on the other, are 
wholly inexplicable except by the one special paradox 
indicated. 

Again, as explanatory and by way of preparation for 
the main line of thought, let us next rid the word sensu- 
ous of the odium attaching to it. By its restriction to 
matter, the phrase sensuous intuition acquires a certain 
grossness suggestive of sensual, vicious, beastly, etc. But 
this is wholly wrong ; by sensuous intuition Kant simply 



THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 105 

meant intuition of sensibility in contradistinction to that 
of intellect. True, his restriction of intuition to the five 
senses contributed to the said odium, but it was not his 
meaning. Time and again throughout this volume it 
has been stated that each individual sense is intuitive, 
and presently the statement will be proven. This done, 
then God, mind, and every thing else of vital interest 
comes within the sphere of sensuous intuition. Then we 
can see the truth and beauty of Kant's first doctrine left 
unrestricted ; also, that while we may intuit super-physi- 
cal objects we can not, as Kant holds, intuit super-sensu- 
ous objects, for the simple reason that we can only intuit 
by means of sense, and to transcend sensuous intuition 
would be for the mind to transcend itself. But unre- 
stricted, sensuous intuition, as we will see, takes in God 
and every thing else that we care for. 

It was just hinted that there is a common prone- 
ness along with Kant to restrict intuition to the five 
senses. This is only as respects theory, however, for 
neither Kant nor any one else ever practiced upon such 
a doctrine. Besides, Kant in truth did not hold it spe- 
cifically in theory even; but, snatching it up hastily, 
maintained it, not for its own sake, but as an impli- 
cation of his favorite doctrine. Then, before noticing 
it as a popular theory, let us first notice the reasons 
peculiar to Kant himself for his anomalous procedure 
in restricting intuition to the five senses. 

In quantity his reasons were indefinitely numerous; 
for to maintain his pet doctrine, along with its falsely- 
assumed implication, required an adjustment of things 
which, sooner or later, involved the trimming and strain- 
ing of every thing in the mind. However, being sifted 



106 THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 

and combined, his reasons amounted to about this : All 
the powers and processes of cognition are attuned to 
sensuous intuition, which latter, being restricted to the 
five senses, can not transcend time, space, and physical 
objects or limits. To prove this, as just stated, required 
a straining and adjusting of nearly every thing in the 
mind; and hence follows an almost endless and chaotic 
argumentation, the like of which the reader would fain 
never see again. AVe had a glimpse in the antinomies. 

The two doctrines, no cognition without intuition 
and no intuition except by the five senses, restricted 
him to extensive objects and excluded the possibility of 
the intensive kind. His position virtually said: The 
physical body is restricted to the earth, which in turn is 
enveloped in atmosphere, therefore we can never see or 
know any thing beyond our atmosphere — can not see 
the stars ; that is, because the body is extensive and 
restricted to five-sense limits, so the mind likewise. Be- 
sides, time, space, and matter are infinite ; mind is finite, 
and therefore can never transcend the infinite. But let 
us follow and see what a time he had with the infinite 
and eternity illusions. 

He held, for example, that space is a positive non- 
entity. It is not only not something but it is the very 
absence of something ; that is, it is vacuity or empti- 
ness, and as such only could it be occupied by extended 
objects. But in being a prerequisite to extended body, it 
becomes a something, which, though only a something 
in the mind^s conception, and not a literal reality, 
amounts to much the same in the end. Being so essen- 
tial to matter, it is presently seen to possess extension, 
divisibility, etc., like matter. But matter is so vast and 



THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 107 

requires so much space, and mind, withal being unable 
to see any end to space, is presently overwhelmed with 
the conception of its infinity. In vain mind goes out 
this way, then that; but can never reach a point in 
space beyond which something else might not exist. 

We now behold an infinite iron cage, as it were, which 
contains all reality as well as every thing conceivable, 
and which, therefore, can never be comprehended, much 
less transcended, by a finite mind. And as sense intui- 
tion can not transcend these limits, and is, moreover, 
restricted to space, time, and matter conditions, it is not 
possible to know any thing except on said conditions. 
Thus God and mind, with their implications, are forever 
shut off in darkness from our speculative knowledge. 

Now it is plain that space, being a positive non-entity 
to begin with, can have no existence except as a concep- 
tion of mind, and only then by the mind's permission ; 
and that, consequently, in trying to comprehend or tran- 
scend space as if it were a literal reality, the mind is in- 
stead only trying to transcend itself, or rather its own con- 
ception. In short infinity^ suggested by space, is its own 
conception, and which conception it is trying to tran- 
scend. It is another case precisely with that of a man 
trying to outrun his own shadow ; it is a self-imposed 
task, prescribed by the mind, to be performed by itself, 
and is evidently impossible at the outset. Space prop- 
erly is nothing and can limit nothing. The body is 
limited by those conditions which the mind ascribes to 
space; whereas, the mind is limited neither by space nor 
by a conception of space, except while occupied with said 
conception. The moment the conception is gone the mind 
is free from even that. 



108 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 

So precisely with the conception eternity, suggested 
by the endless divisibility of time. There is no such 
real thing as eternity ; it is a pure conception of mind ; 
and the attempt to see the end of it is like going round 
a self-prescribed circle with the hope of finding its end. 
In both cases it is a self-imposed impossibility, gotten 
up by the mind itself for the special purpose of baulk- 
ing itself. 

The moral freedom of the mind is of such sort, that 
even God himself can not limit or circumscribe it with 
impunity. Now, in view of this one fact, to assume that 
time and space, which are two non -entities, and have no 
existence except as conceptions of a juggling intellect, 
should turn about and prescribe limits to a mind so en- 
dowed with freedom ; should prescribe limits which hide 
the mind itself from itself, and along with itself shut 
out God and all other vital interests from its own con- 
templation ; to assume such a thing is about the climax 
of absurdity. 

Philosophy and poetry are but one. Kant being a 
philosopher was a poet by implication at least, and 
would have seen God by either instrumentality but for 
the prejudices and illusions indicated. Plato was both 
philosopher and poet, and had no trouble about seeing 
God. Homer was also both, and, though stark-blind, 
saw the Trojan plains blooming with heroes and gods 
every day. But owing to the said infirmities, Kant 
could not get the merest glimpse of a god ; nay, not 
even a glimpse of one on the conspicuous summit of 
Mount Ida. 



THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 109 



THE POPULAR THEORY. 



As already stated, nobody concurs practically in the 
doctrine of restricting intuition to the five senses, but 
theoretically, quite a majority concur with Kant; where- 
fore? There is really but one reason, and that one will 
not bear a close scrutiny. 

From the earliest times it has been held that all the 
five senses are modifications of but one, viz.^. Touch. 
Seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, and feeling are each 
but a species of touching. Then the conception touch 
is the one single test or reason for restricting intuition 
to the five senses and excluding all others. And at first 
sight this seems to be a full and satisfactory test or rea- 
son. Why not? Matter is something hard, weighty, 
tangible to all the five senses, and there can be no mis- 
take about it. In short, I am compelled to believe my 
five senses as respects matter, while as to other things 
which are airy and intangible — well, I can't touch them, 
and hence don't know positively. This is about the 
popular theory, and is much the same with that of Kant. 

To get at the merits of the question, let us ask, what 
is touch? or rather, what advantages have the five over 
the other senses in the question of touch as a test of 
reality and certainty ? None at all, according to Kant's 
several positions. True enough, he sometimes advocates 
the claims of matter as a something exterior to and in- 
dependent of mind ; but he still more frequently asserts 
that matter is but phenomena, and as such has no exist- 
ence out of mind. In such event, what is that we touch 
or intuit when we touch or intuit matter ? 

He makes space and time not only forms of intuition. 



110 THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 

but prerequisites to the existence of matter. Still, they 
are, as he says, evident non-entities. Then, in touching 
or intuiting non-entities, what do we touch or intuit? 
Rather, what does touch amount to or signify in such a 
case? Mark now, space and time are indispensable pre- 
requisites to the existence of matter, so that intuitions of 
space and time are as certain as intuitions of matter, 
whether you consider matter an independent reality or 
not ; that is, regardless of what matter may be, its intu- 
ition or touch is no more certain or valid than that of 
time and space, which two latter are evident non-entities. 
These reflections will satisfy a philosophical mind that 
touch in the vulgar sense is itself a non-entity, and signi- 
fies nothing as a test or sufficient reason of distinction 
between the five and the other senses. 

Again, when touching or intuiting in the case of vis- 
ion, which is called the noblest of the five senses, there 
is literally no touching of matter,; it is only a touching 
or intuiting of light, and light is a force simply. What 
then does touch mean or signify when we touch light or 
force? JSTow then, add this to what was just seen as 
respects touching time, space, and matter, and give some 
general conception of the test called touch as exhibited 
in the four different instances. The most uncultured 
common sense must see that touch in the vulgar sense 
is no sufficient test or reason for restricting intuition to 
the illustrious five at the expense of all the other senses. 

Not only the touch test, but the theory in all its 
phases breaks down on coming to the sense cdMed feeling. 
Though not called the noblest, feeling is at least the 
strongest of all the five senses. But feeling is a prin- 
ciple which extends through the entire sphere of sensi- 



THE SELF: WHAT TS IT ? Ill 

bility: each and every sense is endowed with feeling. 
Now, then, is all feeling to be set down as blind, except 
the feeling of matter? that is to say, is the feeling of 
matter, by means of the fingers for instance, to be as- 
sumed as intuitive, while the feeling of benevolence, 
philanthropy, patriotism, etc., is to be regarded as blind ? 
This would be monstrous, especially since there is no 
touch or other test left for making any such invidi- 
ous distinction. And thus, the principle of feeling dis- 
solves the whole sphere of sense into one common fam- 
ily, and leaves no earthly test or reason for saying this is 
intuitive, but that is not. Besides, if the feeling of mat- 
ter with the fingers be intuitive, then the feeling of 
philanthropy is also intuitive, and that too in a hun- 
dred-fold higher degree. 

Again, no one can deny intuition to the sense called 
taste, but the issue may be evaded in this case by saying 
that taste intuits through or by means of the five senses, 
as, for instance, a pretty landscape by means of vision. 
This is only partially true; there are still two distinct 
intuitive powers, and two distinct objects. The eye sees 
only the physical object, but not the beauty, for there is 
no beauty in matter ; whereas, taste, by the aid of the 
eye, sees the object, and in addition sees the beauty 
which is not in matter 'per se, but attaches to the rela- 
tions, suggestions, etc. of matter. 

To have no doubt about this, let it be applied to 
human conduct. Thus: two distinct actions may be 
perfectly identical as perceived by the eye; yet as seen 
by taste one may be ugly to the lowest degree and the 
other beautiful to the highest. Obviously we have here 
two distinct intuitive powers and two distinct objects. 



112 THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 

Besides, the object seen by taste was wholly invisible to 
the eye. 

But take a still clearer and stronger case : The fasci- 
nating beauty belonging to the abstract principles of 
justice, truth, etc., is in all respects absolutely invisible 
to the eye ; yet taste intuits such beauty with as much 
clearness and certainty as the eye can intuit a house 
across the street. Leaving out what was just seen re- 
specting the emptiness of the touch test and the facts re- 
specting the sense o^ feeling, we have still in the single 
case of taste sufficient proof to break down the theory 
of restricting intuition to the five senses. 

It only needs to note the fact that taste in its varied 
spheres of poetry, oratory, sculpture, painting, music, 
architecture, etc., manifests intuitive powers of the high- 
est order. The same may be noted as regards the intui- 
tive powers exhibited in wit, humor, satire, burlesque, 
comedy, tragedy, military genius, and so on indefinitely. 
In all these cases the intuitive power springs directly 
from its own respective sense. Indeed, the least reflec- 
tion will show, as often stated before, that each, the very 
least, sense has its own peculiar intuition, which will 
submit to no foreign dictation ; indeed, the absence of 
which could not be supplied by any or all of the other 
cognitive powers together. The intuitive powers of love 
in its varied phases, for example, will each judge and 
select for itself despite all opposition. 

But see the question in this light : (1) Nothing can 
be known until it is first intuited; (2) All intuition is of 
sense ; (3) Sense intuition is restricted to the five senses. 
The first two propositions are admitted without debate. 
As to the third, its truth will be settled by these two 



THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 113 

questions: (1) Have we any interests besides those tan- 
gible to the five senses ? (2) If others, then are we to 
be left in total darkness about such others ? 

Now see again in this: All function of whatever kind 
implies cognition either near or remote. Each sense has 
its functions. The coguition attaching to the latter can 
not be supplied by intellect or by any other foreign 
power, as just seen. Then, having its own cognitive 
powers, it must be able to intuit its special objects, other- 
wise its cognition would be blind. This gives one of 
two results, either each sense is endowed with intuition, 
or in default thereof it is a positive dead-beat without 
worth or purpose in the mental economy. 

But there is no need of abstract argumentation on 
this question in view of the endless testimony of a prac- 
tical kind. Consider the number of ideas, usages, cus- 
toms, institutions — moral, religious, social, civil, polit- 
ical, and other institutions; consider indeed a literal 
world full of objects not even dreamed of by the five 
senses. Are all these objects no more than pure imagi- 
nations? Certainly they a're facts, fully as much and as 
well known as matter. But they could not be known 
without intuition, and yet they are not in reach of the 
five senses. 

In truth all the higher purposes, plans, thoughts, 
feelings, aspirations, etc., of human life are far above 
the five-sense sphere. We can not allow that the very 
upshot of existence is a mere fancy, or in any sense less 
real or less known than matter. Yet if such things are 
known, there must be intuitive powers corresponding to 
each, and they must be powers other than the five senses 
too. Indeed, the question is so plain from a practical 
standpoint that it is absurd to debate it. 



114 THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 



AN OBJECTION. 



Admitting that each sense is intuitive, and that the 
intuitions of a large number of them are brilliant in the 
highest degree, still said intuitions are lacking in certi- 
tude, lacking in that sort of certitude essential to dem- 
onstration, and hence can never be relied on with cer- 
tainty, as we rely on the five senses. Then let us exam- 
ine this common and also apparently plausible objection. 

It grows out of the assumption that truths of exact 
science, say for instance mathematical propositions, have 
a higher degree of certainty or are more positively true 
than other truths generally. This mistake results from 
the confounding of the/on?i and the content of proposi- 
tions. Exact science is called exact science simply be- 
cause the forms or outlines of its propositions are so 
sharply indicated. By virtue of this sharpness of out- 
line such truths are seen more quickly and clearly, and 
hence are more easily distinguished from others. Now 
this clearness and sharpness of form is unconsciously 
added to the content, and thereby gives the content 
greater certainty as we imagine ; but it is a clear mis- 
take. 

Other truths are generally characterized by softness 
of outline which sometimes gives them an appearance 
of intermingling to such a degree that you can not tell 
precisely where the outlines of one end or those of the 
other begin. But this concerns the outlines only and 
not the content. The colors of the rainbow, for exam- 
ple, intermingle in this confusing way, yet certainly the 
said colors are just as self-evident as any proposition in 
mathematics. 



^ THE SELF: WHAT IS IT ? 115 

This result becomes self-evidently positive by the fact 
that no truth or knowledge, no matter of what kind, is 
possible except on one and the same universal condition, 
viz., sense intuition. Do not mistake and imagine that 
sense intuition refers only to exterior objects. We could 
have no conception of mind, nor of any attribute or 
process of mind, without first intuiting it. True enough^ 
mind might exist independently of our intuitions of it ; 
but in such an event it would be to us an unexplored 
continent. This only amounts to saying that intelligence 
proper is but a seeing or intuiting power, and hence it 
would be literally nothing without intuition. So then, 
the colors of the rainbow and mathematical truths, being 
both possible to us only on the one same universal con- 
dition of sense intuition, must be true alike ; neither has 
any advantage over the other. 

But every sense — the five in common with the others — 
is ever liable to illusion from within or without. Be- 
sides, prejudice, excitement, or other influence, may often 
cause us to imagine an intuition in cases where there is 
none. So that, while the truth of any given object must 
be tested by intuition, the intuition also often needs a 
test itself. And here we come upon a Avorld-wide space 
for sophistry and subterfuge of all descriptions. Intui- 
tion being the test of the object, what then in the next 
place is the test of intuition ? This is an all-important 
point. 

Yet every one knows that the test of the intuition is 
the plain, simple feeling of necessity ; that is, the intui- 
tion is true and I accept it as such from sheer necessity. 
The proposition 2 + 2=4 is accepted for no higher or 
more intelligible reason than that of simple necessity : 



116 THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 

there is no alternative ; we are necessitated to accept it, 
and that ends it. This test is plain, simple, and doubt- 
kss the highest possible one ; and ought always to be 
employed in cases requiring a test. 

Instead, when through ignorance or prejudice, one is 
inclined to dodge, there are any number of subterfuges 
resorted to rather than submit to this nearly infallible 
test. Thus: I believe nothing except my five senses. 
Where are your truth, justice, mercy, etc. ? I would like 
to see them if they are near about. Not so grossly, but 
according to the same principle, did Kant elude the test 
of necessity in his restriction of intuition to the five 
senses. 

For example, according to his theory, God and mind 
come under precisely the same category and are alike 
excluded from intuition. But in relation to God, the 
issue was as to God's existence ; W'hile in relation to 
mind, the issue was as to knowing the mind as a thing- 
in-itself, thus having two issues, when, according to his 
theory, there ought to have been but one. Also, by 
means of the words faith, belief, absolute knowledge, phe- 
nomena, thing-in-itself, etc., he ever eluded the princi- 
ple of necessity as a sufficient test. And well he might, 
for the introduction of that simple test would have dis- 
solved his restriction theory in an instant. 

However, sense intuition is the test of the truth of all 
propositions, and necessity is the test of the intuition. 
No tests can be found any better, any higher, more uni- 
versal or more certain than these two. Now, then, let 
them be applied to the question in hand ; that is, to the 
certitude of the five, as contrasted with the other senses. 
No doubt but the self-evident truths of mathematics are 



THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 117 

of the five-sense intuitions ; nor is there any doubt of 
their truth. But the general conception knowledge, 
though ever so vague in outline, is not an object of five- 
sense intuition, and yet it must be admitted to be just 
as certain as any such object. Knowledge as genus must 
be as certain as mathematics, which is but a species 
under it. 

According to the popular theory, and also according 
to Kant's, if legitimately carried out, mind is not in the 
scope of the five senses, and hence can not be known or 
intuited. Yet no one would claim that any intuition of 
the five senses could be more certain than our intuitions 
of mind, which is the sole ground of all intuition and 
knowledge. It need not be replied, we can not know 
mind in itself, we can only know phenomena. Such 
replies are bare-faced subterfuges ; the simple question 
is, are not our intuitions of mind just as certain as any 
five-sense intuitions? 

Just the same may be said of justice, truth, virtue, 
and an endless number of other objects, which are not 
in the reach of the five senses ; yet we intuit them, and 
are as much necessitated to believe the intuitions as we 
are to believe those of the five senses. The intuition of 
a mothe^^s love is easily able to distinguish her child 
from others; and is in all essential respects as certain as 
any mathematical proposition. Indeed, to barely enum- 
erate the endless classes of self evident intuitions, mani- 
fested throughout the endless relationships and expe- 
riences of mind, and which are meanwhile invisible to 
the five senses, would be to turn the debate into absurdity, 
especially now that the chief ambiguities and sophistries 
are removed. 

9 



118 THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 

Instead, let our two tests, sense intuition and neces- 
sity, be applied to that one sole and highest question, the 
existence of God. Away with all sophistry and subter- 
fuge, and apply the naked tests, sense intuition and 
necessity, to this great question. This was Kant's chief 
theme. He wrote more in bulk about it than this entire 
volume. And well he might ; for to allow a theoretical 
knowledge of God would break down his restricted 
intuition theory, and, as he strangely enough seemed 
to think, would also destroy his doctrine of sense intui- 
tion bodily. As before said, he was only trying to save 
the latter. No matter, he never seemed to get to the end 
of the debate, showing conclusively, that he was con- 
scious of something wrong, though ever seeming unable 
to see it. 

Now then any clown, seeing that the covering of the 
house depends on its rafters, and these in turn upon the 
walls, and these upon the foundations, and these upon 
the earth, and this upon gravity, must also, from pure 
necessity, intuit God as a final and unconditioned ground 
of the whole, and that too with as much certainty as he 
intuits the tree standing near by. Nor is the proposi- 
tion 24-2=4 attended with any more necessity than that 
the said conditions must depend on God as an uncondi- 
tioned ground. The necessity of accepting the latter is 
in all respects just as imperious as in that of the former, 
and there's an end to it. 

Besides, God may be intuited from any number of 
other standpoints through similar logical instrumentali- 
ties. And, still more, there is conscience as a lofty ob- 
servatory, whence the intuition is yet clearer and more 
direct. It may be said that conscience literally touches 



THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 119 

God, with jnst as much propriety as that the eye touches 
objects in the process of vision. 

Now, to turn about and say this is only faith, or it is 
not absolute knowledge, or a knowledge of the thing in 
itself, is wholly foreign to the issue, and withal any thing 
else than philosophical. The issue is not about faith or 
knowledge or other words for purposes of finesse, but sim- 
ply about accepting the existence of God as an unavoid- 
able necessity, just as w^e do any truth of exact science. 

If it be asked, How do we know that the intuition 
of God is literally true, and that he does in reality exist? 
the question may be answered by still another question : 
How do we know that a straight line between any two 
points is necessarily the shortest? Simply because (1) 
we have the intuition, and (2) we are necessitated to 
accept said intuition. In short, we accept the existence 
of God precisely as we do any and all other self-evident 
truths, no matter what. The intuitions simply compel 
us, whether we will or not, and that is an end of it. 
The laws of the universe, and of reasoning, and the 
mind's constitution throughout, make it as impossible to 
dodge positive intuitions of God as it is for the traveler 
to dodge the sunshine on the highway. 

If, after all, the intuition of God be rejected as unre- 
liable, then we may with the same propriety reject all 
intuition, and therewith make it impossible to know 
any thing; for we can not know any thing otherwise than 
by intuition. And as final proof of all which, we have 
the practical fact that all individuals and all nations, 
through all the ages, without any legitimate exception, 
have exhibited this same necessity to accept the existence 
of God. 



120 THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 

However, the existeDce of God is only here employed 
as an illustration of another question, viz., to show that the 
five-sense intuitions carry no more certainty, no more 
demonstrative evidence than the intuitions of the other 
senses. In any and all cases it is precisely the same ; 
(1) there must be an intuition, and (2) we must feel 
necessitated to accept it. All of this is but saying in 
a nutshell: Mind can know nothing until it sees some- 
thing; having seen something, it has seen it, and can 
not help it even if it would. . 

There is, however, a very marked difference between 
the five and the other senses in one particular. Regard- 
less of theory every sane person, in practice at least, 
regards the five-sense intuitions as low and gross in con- 
trast with the others; and in fact as wholly worthless, 
except only in so far as they subserve the other and 
higher interests of mind. The five-sense intuitions are 
but the mildewed and down-stair windows of the mind; 
while it is only through the windows of its upper cham- 
bers, and especially from the watch-tower of conscience, 
that we get views of the grand landscapes either of this 
or of the life to come. 

We have now had at least a glance at Kant's doctrine 
of sense intuition. Alas ! alas ! that he restricted it. 
But there are several other questions discussed by him 
which bear significantly upon those of this volume, and 
to which we may briefly advert. 

EXPEEIEXCE. 

It is generally the better plan with respect to every 
writer, and especially with respect to Kant, to get at his 



THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 121 

meaning by the drift of his thought rather than by- 
means of special statements iiere and there. 

With this explanation it may be stated that, fully as 
much as Fichte, he regarded all knowledge as properly 
and exclusively of the mind. Hence all knowledge, in 
a certain general respect, might be called a priori; so 
that the words a priori and empirical were employed by 
him, and necessarily too, as mere relatives in subordi- 
nate distinctions. His system, in its general make up, 
being directly the opposite of that of Locke, disallowed 
of deriving any knowledge from experience properly, 
although his doctrine of restricted intuition seemed to 
look that way. 

Accordingly, instead of getting positive knowledge 
from matter, or from other exterior object by means of 
experience, his meaning rather was, that experience only 
aids the mind in evolving and illustrating the principles 
of knowledge already in itself, somewhat in the sense 
that the wind aids to expand and utilize the sails of a 
ship. The ship and its sails are already complete; the 
wind aids in utilizing them. Or experience aids, some- 
thing like the object instruments used for little children, 
to draw out and illustrate what is already in the mind. 

Although he often uses the expression, '' testing knowl- 
edge by experience,^^ he means, in all such cases, testing 
knowledge by sense intuition. This results necessarily 
from his chief doctrine, that knowledge is impossible in 
the first place without sense intuition ; as also from his 
other much-emphasized tiiough equivalent doctrine, that 
all cognitions are worthless unless either primarily 
grounded on, else finally tested bv, sense intuition. In 
this case experience is a mere shifter of scenes ; that is, 



] 22 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 

a shifter of time^ space, and physical relations whereby 
the mind can get new or otherwise better standpoints 
for accurate and satisfactory intuitions of any given 
object. 

Suppose, for illustration, a procession of men dressed 
in uniform are passing along the street ; but whether it 
be a military or funeral procession is left to conjecture. 
By going to the place of destination we find it to be a 
military occasion ; and thus, as commonly said, test and 
settle the conjecture by experience. Instead, experience 
in the case amounts to nothing but a shifting of time 
and space relations, going to the spot, whereby we are 
enabled to settle the question by direct and positive 
sense intuition. Except the conjectures, which were 
worthless if left alone, intuition was the beginning and 
ending of the Avhole so far as cognition was concerned. 
Experience furnished a standpoint only for learning the 
truth by means of intuition. 

The same may be said of a machine, which, originat- 
ing in the mind, needs, in view of its complexities, to be 
illustrated by a physical symbol so as to test — not by ex- 
perience properly, but by positive intuition — whether it 
was correctly designed in the first place by the mind. 
Either of these illustrations will serve to represent the 
question in its universality as regards external experience. 

Internal experience is quite similar. All our think- 
ing, reflecting, reasoning, etc., amount to but a shifting 
of positions or relations internally, whereby we obtain a 
suitable and sufficient standpoint, whence the object in 
question may be seen by direct internal intuition. It 
was seen, a few pages back, that by a very simple process 
of thought, intuition was enabled to mount to a position 
by means of which it had a positive view of God. 



THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 123 

Conscience seems to be an exception, at least as re- 
spects seeing God. It needs no experience or clamber- 
ing up to high standpoints ; needs no ladders, telescopes 
or otherwise. In some sort, we may say, it was born, 
and lives in the highest pinnacle of mind; and which 
being the case, it hardly ever gets so soundly asleep as 
not to see God dimly at least. 

This doctrine of experience has been a sort of mill- 
stone about the neck of philosophy, especially since the 
days of Locke, and ought to be cut loose. Either as a 
source or test of knowledge, it is a powerful instrument 
with the materialist ; though, in both respects, it is a 
bare-faced untruth. Employed, as it was by Kant, to 
indicate the limits of cognition, it simply signifies that 
mind can only know what it can know; and which self- 
evident fact needs no indorsement from so doubtful a 
maxim as that of the experience doctrine. Except as 
scene-shifter, or for purposes of distinction, or other 
less important use, it ought to be avoided. 

Then, a test by experience only means a test by sense 
intuition. This gives the clear results : (1) All knowl- 
edge proper comes of sense intuition ; (2) all not so 
coming is worthless until tested and verified by final 
intuition. This, in some sort, makes sense intuition the 
beginning and the ending of knowledge. So taught 
Kant ; and so the truth will appear on close examination. 



REASON. 

As seen in the antinomies, Kant confounded reason 
with intellect, and in which part of his writings he called 
it theoretical reason. In his Ethics, without any suffi- 



124 THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 

cient explanation^ he changes the name to pracjtical rea- 
son. In this new position^ though sometimes exhibiting 
discursive qualities, it was chiefly employed as an intui- 
tive faculty. It was, in fact, sometimes endowed with 
sensibility; and at others so fully assumed the character 
and functions of conscience as to seem identical with it. 
Jean Paul Eichter so understood him. Jean Paul may 
not be counted good authority in such a matter; yet he 
was far more apt to get Kant^s drift in such a case than 
one who devotes his life to the study and imitation of 
the mere ritual of philosophy, as might be said of many 
of Kant^s reviewers. 

However, besides this and other facts, there is one 
especially to show that he regarded reason as the 
intuitive or sense intelligence, though not in so many 
literal words. He always speaks of reason as the high- 
est and supreme authority in knowledge. On the other 
hand, as we have seen, he makes sense intuition the su- 
preme test of all knowledge. But the principle of unity 
would not allow of two supreme authorities ; and so the 
two must be identical ; that is, reason personates the 
sum total of sense intelligence, while intuition is its one 
great eye. In the main, at least, his view seems to con- 
cur with that of this volume. The latter reached its 
results by means of the distinction between the objects 
and the species of cognition ; while Kant reached his by 
means of special faculties and functions, and which suffi- 
ciently accounts for any minor discrepancies between 
them. 

He does not emphasize, in so many words, that Intui- 
tive cognition springs directly from sense; but his sev- 
eral positions say it for him. His reason and sense intui- 



THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 125 

tion both have a direct sense origin. Theoretical reason 
— which was only intellect — could not find God; but 
practical reason — sense cognition, operating in the sphere 
of sense — had no trouble in fiiiding God, freedom, and 
immortality, thus showing according to his belief that 
co2:nition finds its hio-hest data and attains to its com- 
plete culmination in the sense sphere. 

Regardless of a number of instances to the contrary, 
it is evident from Kant's general line of thought that 
he regarded sense cognition as the only cognition proper 
of the mind, while intellect is but a subordinate append- 
age thereof. His doctrine of sense intuition as the sole 
source and test of all knowledge is sufficient on this point. 
The spirit of his system would derive intellect directly 
from sense or sense cognition, else leave it suspended in 
mid-air, as pictured in the last chapter. In short, 
the drift of the Critique and that of this volume are 
much the same essentially when treating of the same 
subjects, excepting the restriction of intuition and its im- 
plications : so that his might be called a system of sen- 
sualism too. 

Instead of censure, the foregoing has been rather to 
vindicate Kant, as well as meanwhile and especially to 
vindicate truth. Kant was no rationalist, nor material- 
ist, nor agnostic ; yet many persons, not fully under- 
standing him, think just the contrary, as in fact many of 
his positions would justify. Others again regard the 
Critique as quite a philosophical chaos, without any 
unity. So it is seemingly, but not in reality. He first 
set out to answer Hume ; and along with that, presently 
took the notion of working out a system of pure reason, 
but coming upon the doctrine of sense intuition in the 



126 THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 

outset, he became so enthused as thereafter to subordinate 
every thing else to said doctrine ; so that it became at 
once the one idea or unifying element of the Critique. 
Without this interpretation, there is no clew to a full un- 
derstanding of the work. 

Despite all its failings, however, there is enough orig- 
inal thought in the Critique to furnish materials for fifty 
books of the average kind. In a word, the more one 
becomes acquainted with Kant's remarkable philosophical 
powers, and especially with his manly moral character, 
the more disinclined he will become to censure or criti- 
cise him. 

OTHER AND HIGHER AUTHORITY THAN KANT. 

The Mississippi River never flows directly south at 
any one point ; but, in spite of its special zig-zagging, its 
general flow is none the less a straight and uniform march 
to the south. Much the same may be said of human 
opinions, considered in the general or aggregate. The 
modifying influences of special times, locations, and con- 
ditions result in an indefinite complexity, upon no mat- 
ter what subject, which, in many instances, amounts to 
positive enigmas ; but, being considered apart from these 
special zig-zags, they flow as directly and infallibly to truth 
as the said river does to the south. This is only saying 
that, in the abstract, opinions must be allowed to partake 
of all the validity of mind, the integrity of which latter 
we are compelled to admit. 

Such infallible opinions or truths are not easily iden- 
tified at all times upon every subject. Still, an earnest 
and painstaking mind, by contrasting the signs of the 



I 



THE SELF: WHAT IS IT ? 127 

present with the prints in the sand and the hieroglyphics 
on the walls of the past, can pretty nearly reach a true 
result in any given case. 

There are some truths of the kind in question, how- 
ever, which do not need to be hunted out. Instead, they 
stand to-day and have always stood, like so many im- 
perishable pyramids along the highway of the ages, visi- 
ble and legible to every eye. They are self-evident even 
to fools: so self-evident, indeed, that fools, more than any, 
are apt to regard them as trite and vulgar. One of the 
tallest and grandest of these pyramids is this : ^^ An hon- 
est man is the noblest work of God.'^ There it stands ! 
and right there it always will stand in its majestic pro- 
portions, despite the little intellectual bullets fired at it 
by idle passers by. 

It is no objection to these universal verdicts of the 
race, that here and there are to be found apparent excep- 
tions : for example, general opinion was always in error 
as regards the Copernican philosophy. But there could 
be no error of opinion in a case about which there has 
been no opinion at all. The said philosophy is altogether 
too irrelevant and too remote to the vital and practical 
interests of the race at large, to call forth any opinion. 
It can not be said that humanity at large has any opinion 
at all about this and other like foreign questions. 

But, on the other hand, the first and chief question 
with every man is : What is the greatest good in human 
character? Or, what is the highest and most desirable 
excellence for me to seek ? The universal verdict re- 
plies : ^^ An honest man is the noblest work of God," nor 
could it be invalidated in the general esteem of the race, 
though positively denied by all the philosophers ever born. 



128 THE SET^F: WHAT IS IT? 

The truth is, being the first and highest, it is also a 
necessary problem, and one too so f'nlly worked out by 
every man that each heart at least, if not perchance each 
lip, is compelled to concur. 'In short, it is an imperish- 
able Cheops, so high and stately as to be visible to every 
eye from every point in a normal human experience. To 
be out of its sight is to be lost in a burning desert where 
only the very worst can befall. 

But pray, what does this universal verdict teach upon 
the question in hand? This much, it may be answered, 
is quite as plain as the pyramid itself: all the essential 
traits of this noblest work of God are of pure sensibil- 
ity. As to intellect or any other intelligence, they are 
wholly ignored; not hinted at, even as remote factors 
in the make-up of this noblest work. This verdict, too, 
may hence be called another specimen of sensualism. 

As to other authority, should other be thought neces- 
sary, it may be replied that this universal and infallible 
verdict, along with the drift of Kant's Critique and that 
of this volume, all converge to one illustrious point — 
to Jesus, whose one sole and all-embracing idea, as mani- 
fested throughout his life and gospel, was the priceless 
worth of the human heart or sensibility. His whole mes- 
sage contains not one word addressed to the intellect: 
nor indeed is there even a hint that any such thing 
exists. 

He did not come to debate such problems. He had 
already solved this one ; and upon its assumption made 
haste to address the heart as the veritable Self. His 
prompt and decisive action was louder than any words 
and stronger than any arguments ; the heart and not the 
intellect was the orolden fleece He came in search of 



THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 129 

No wonder Hegel thinks it out of taste^ and much 
more so out of logic, to employ prophecy and miracles 
in support of Jesus and his Gospel. It is but to employ 
props, which need propping themselves, as a means of 
support for that which stands firm in itself and needs no 
support. HoAvever, the Master himself employed mira- 
cles for the sake of the ignorant who require ^^ signs," 
and also for purposes of mercy. In the latter respect 
any ordinary man can easily work miracles; for works 
of mercy, considered from the standpoint of human 
depravity, are in truth greater miracles than any mere 
physical signs or wonders. 

The very remarkable difference between Jesus and 
that class of men called philosphers, is the difference 
already implied. The latter, and in some instances even 
the most eminent philosophers, becoming once interested, 
finally become wholly absorbed in the hair-splitting 
intricacies of intelligence; and as a legitimate result, 
their writings are not likely, at the most, to reach any 
higher than what might be called by contrast the kitchen 
interests of mankind. All this, too, after and in view of 
their great learning, great advantages, and life-long ap- 
plication. 

On the other hand, the unlearned youth, Jesus, who 
nevertheless became noted at his first Sermon on the 
Mount for speaking with authority, went straight, not 
to the kitchen, but to the front door and knocked with 
authority. The master of the house, Sensibility, opened 
the door and embraced the wonderful Stranger at first 
sight : ^^ You are welcome ! Abide, and be one of my 
household henceforth and always!" In this view of the 
case, it is not at all likely that the remonstrance or 



1 30 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 

wrangliDg in the back kitchen of rationality can tend 
in the least to dislodge the Stranger, especially after such 
a welcome from the master ; such wrangling can amount 
to no more than the clamor of so many fools. 

Emerson has said very beautifully, that the impres- 
sion of Jesus is not so .much written as plowed into the 
world's history. It would be hard to find so strong an 
argument, with so few words, in support of the sensual 
philosophy of Jesus. In truth, until some one can find 
a higher and more authoritative element in human char- 
acter than that of sensibility, Jesus is destined to reign 
supreme ; neither can such element be found, without a 
reconstruction and new addition to the mind. 



SUMMARY. 

In Part I, there are three propositions — end of exist- 
ence, causality, and moral responsibility — all grounded 
in sense ; and in Part II, one main proposition only — 
the distinction between the two spheres of objects and 
the two species of cognition. Each of these four propo- 
sitions involves in itself and is sufficient j^roof by itself 
of the one leading idea, viz., Sense is mind, and mind is 
sense. To prevent this final result, it is essential to over- 
turn each and all four of the said propositions. In the 
same respect, it would likewise be necessary to invalidate 
the other three authorities referred to in this chapter. 
It will be hard work to overturn either one of the seven 
proofs, much more all the seven. This being the case, 
let it be assumed that mind and sense are identical. 

It has been seen that each sense is a distinct attribute 
of mind, endow^ed with an intuition peculiar to itself 



THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 131 

and furnishes its individual quota of knowledge for the 
common fund. This common fund is the sum total of 
all knowledge, and results from the contributions of all 
the said individual senses combined. The sum total 
again is represented by a general intuition, which has 
been called the one great eye of the mind. The special 
intuition of each sense and the general intuition repre- 
senting all are much the same except in quantity. 

The multitude of individual senses — and God only 
knows how many, no attempt having ever been made to 
count them — this swarm is not altogether like a swarm 
of bees, which, dispersing hither and thither, gather the 
same honey from the flowers of field and meadow all 
alike ; instead, each sense goes forth to its own specific 
territory, a little world in itself, and brings back a har- 
vest of its own sowing and reaping. 

Though the grain in each case is essentially different 
from all others, the binding of the bundles in all cases 
is identical. This would follow from the fact that each 
sense, in the very frame-work of its constitution, as well 
as in its every possible motion, involves the logical prin- 
ciple ; so that the bundles in every case would necessa- 
rily be bound with a logical tie. If knowledge be thus 
logical in its rudimental elements, the same principle 
would extend throughout its aggregated mass. Logic in 
truth is one of the least astonishing traits of intelli- 
gence; of all things in the world, it is the most purely 
mechanical something — the very root of monotony or 
mechanics. 

However, though the rudiments of all alike have the 
logical trait, yet the endless variety in other respects 
wovild require some common, central intelligence to sort 



132 THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 

out and combine all the parts into a more general logical 
and harmonious whole. This central intelligence, to be 
harmonious with the individual senses, must along with 
the latter spring directly from sense. It would also in 
common with them possess the logical trait ; indeed, in 
view of its great and complex work, it would need to be 
logically endowed to the highest possible degree. 

Now, this central intelligence you can call General 
Sense, Common Sense, Reason, Conscience, or whatever 
you best like. As just said, it has one great all-embrac- 
ing eye called Intuition. This central and supreme some- 
thing, with its eye of intuition, represents the sum total 
of intelligence. It ought, however, to be noted that the 
five senses often bring in material so tangled and eon- 
fused that it requires to be cut, trimmed, and otherwise 
fitted by mensuration before it will fit into the general 
mass; and even then, as we have seen, it often causes 
the greatest inharmony. And no wonder, seeing that in- 
tellect, the operator in the case, as well as its functions 
and materials are all so wholly foreign to all else in the 
commonwealth. 

This, however faulty in some respects, is a true pic- 
ture in its main outlines of the economy of intelligence ; 
it is true as to the ground, the number and variety of its 
tributaries, and the final upshot of the whole. Apart 
from all foregoing arguments and expositions, there are 
two common-place and self-evident facts which can now 
be introduced, and which will prove the fidelity of the 
picture in all of its main features. 

(1) It is not possible to account for the remarkable 
and ever-shifting varieties of general intelligence upon 
any other hypothesis. Only think of what a prodigy 



THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 133 

Blind Tom is in his one intuition of harmonious sounds. 
Like prodigies have existed in all times and in all coun- 
tries ; the number is simply endless. Moreover, each in- 
dividual sense can boast of its prodigies; no one sense, 
perhaps, but can boast of its prodigy quite equal to Blind 
Tom. This would be impossible on the assumption that 
all intelligence, like intellect for example, springs from 
one single homogeneous root; it must spring from a 
variety of senses, especially since all true genius and 
greatness are always found to result from one, two, or 
more corresponding senses of remarkable development. 

(2) It is equally impossible to account otherwise for 
partial insanity. Perhaps a majority of minds are insane 
in some one, two, or even more respects; that is, in some 
one, two, or more sensibilities, though meanwhile the 
central intelligence may remain comparatively sound ; 
whereas, on the assumption of one homogeneous root of 
intelligence, the least touch of insanity would involve 
the whole economy of intelligence, and in which case 
partial insanity would be impossible ; either the whole 
mind, or none at all, would be insane. By the way, this 
too is an invincible proof that insanity does not result 
from diseased intellect, but is only an accompanying re- 
sult along with diseased intellect, both alike springing 
from diseased sensibility. This may supplement what 
was said in Part I respecting irresponsibility as a result 
of diseased sense and not of diseased intellect. 

Generally, it is much better to see a man or other ob- 
ject face to face, in order to a thorough acquaintance 
with either one. The same rule ought to hold good of 
mind as an object of investigation, and hence, believing 
that^ sense, and not intelligence, is mind proper, this vol- 

10 



134 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 

ume has given precedence to sense. Instead of an elabo- 
rate exposition, a general sketch was the only possibility 
under the circumstances. There was so much to dis- 
prove respecting the claims of intelligence on the one 
hand; so much to prove in favor of sense on the other, 
the two together thus requiring at least a general survey 
of the whole mind, that any thing beyond a hasty out- 
line has been altogether out of the question. 

'^ Know thyself^' has always been regarded by tlie 
wise as the most important knowledge; but a knowledge 
of mere intellegence in all its fullness is not more than 
the A B C of self-knowledge. Intelligence at the most 
is only a sort of lantern which, properly employed, may 
aid in finding out that marvelous and mysterious some- 
thing called the Self. Philosophy has not yet even got 
the lantern properly trimmed and lighted for starting 
out in that difficult search. From the philosophical stand- 
point the august Self still remains a veiled mystery. 

Excepting only occasional quite narrow and restricted 
investigations concerning morals, the vast and wonder- 
ful sphere of sense might be called an unexplored con- 
tinent to philosophy. It is true that Kant, Fichte, 
Schelling, Hegel, and others have in great exigencies 
resorted to it for the best and highest aid in their most 
difficult problems ; but these were only the hasty incur- 
sions of a Livingstone or Stanley which still left the 
S})here of sense a dark continent. 

It is hoped that this volume will at least point out 
the high and strong claims this unexplored region has 
upon the attention of the thinking part of the world, 
and meanwhile point out the fact to students that some 
time in the future it is destined to become the great El 
Dorado of philosophy. 



THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 135 

It now remains, seeing that sense is the natural and 
an altogether sufficient custodian of its own treasures, 
such as responsibility, causality, the end of existence 
inclusive of all its hopes, fears, loves, etc. : it now re- 
mains to inquire why the guardianship of such treas- 
ures is on the contrary often turned over to intellect, 
which, if left unaided and even in its own legitimate 
sphere, is wholly irresponsible, not to say profligate to 
the highest degree, and which inquiry will be the sub- 
ject of the next and closing chapter. 



136 THE SELF: WHAT IS IT?' 

CHAPTER VII. 

Fragments. 

It has been seen often enough that intellect is incapa- 
ble of doing any thing at all without a prompting from 
something exterior to itself. It has also been seen that 
it is almost incessantly occupied in devising, ways and 
means for supplying the ever-varying physical wants 
and whims of sense ; this indeed is the sole purpose of 
its existence. On no account and in no direct way is it 
capable of handling the least moral question^ no more 
than the ear is of turning lecturer on optics, and yet just 
here precisely it gets in its mischievous work. 

A new residence, for example, is to be builded. Intel- 
lect of course is put to work in any number of ways to 
assist in the undertaking, though always in a subordinate 
way. When the question comes up, however, about the 
cost of the new hotise, then we begin to glimpse the 
controlling authorities in the matter. Kight away be- 
gins a struggle between economy, vanity, and perhaps 
several other causal powers. Economy being a virtue, 
and as such backed by conscience, will not yield an inch ; 
we can not afford a $20,000 house ! and there economy 
stands firm. But vanity, desiring the finest house on 
the street, is also resolute, and after exhausting all other 
resources, puts intellect to figuring on the superior ad- 
vantages of a §20,000 house on the score of comfort, 
health, durability, etc. Intellect shows presently that 
it will be ten-fold cheaper in the end, and thus by this 
showing vanity wins. 



THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 137 

Among other things this illustration is to show how 
moral elements may be involved in any of our common 
secular interests, and that, since intellect is constantly 
employed in such interests, it is always close at hand to 
be employed by any viciously inclined sense in event of 
an issue with another sense, and especially with con- 
science. Thus it is first employed, though by stealth, to 
decide moral questions. The habit once started is easily 
extended, little by little, through all the senses, until by 
and by the vicious tendency gets such mastery that in- 
tellect, with its utility and greatest happiness doctrines, 
is finally set up in the place of conscience. In all this, 
however, intellect does not of course rule sense, but is 
simply used as a club by one vicious sense wherewith to 
oppose another sense, and especially to keep conscience 
afar off. 

Suppose, again, one special sense, say avarice, is natu- 
rally strong in the character of a given person. Being 
robust, at the outset it is prone to domineer over other 
senses less strong than itself. Gradually subduing one 
by one, it finally becomes notable as the ruling trait of 
the man, though all this while very respectful, at least in 
appearance to conscience. It not only subdues, but 
makes vassals of all except conscience. But with all 
its vassals it can not change the laws and decrees of 
conscience. Yet these latter are too binding, and here- 
upon avarice resolves an outright revolt. 

To this end, and as an only alternative, avarice calls 
in intellect to its aid. Knowing beforehand what to say, 
and being no stammerer withal, intellect, in coming into 
the presence of the rebel chief, speaks right out : '' Eat, 
ye shall not surely die," and herewith the conflict is 



138 THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 

ended. Conscience is banished, avarice is king ])ehind 
the throne, while intellect is set np with a make-believe 
crown. 

In tlie first illustration all the senses becoming grad- 
ually vicious, and acting to some extent in concert, finally 
set up intellect in place of conscience; and in the second 
only one by gradual usurpation does the same. In both 
intellect bears a striking resemblance to the serpent in 
Eden ; in fact, allowing the latter to have been a mere 
instrument, there is an obvious identity. And this is 
often called rationalizing sense, but it would be nearer 
the mark to call it sensualizing intellect. For the latter 
is evidently a passive instrument, and as such is coerced 
to play the part of conscience, which is a sense. 

Besides the moral, something occurs quite similar in 
the economy of intelligence, in which latter, intellect is 
forced to usurp the place of reason or intuitive intelli- 
gence. In this case it should be called rationalizing in- 
tellect in distinction to the first, which is sensualizing 
intellect. In the first, the positive and direct result is 
moral harm ; in the second, error and disorder in the 
economy of intelligence. In either event, however, 
there will be at least an indirect tendency to harm, by 
each and upon each. Both in the first and second in- 
stances also it must be noted that sense, as in all possible 
cases, is at the bottom of all mischief, it is the first and 
original mainspring of all that happens. 

But though sense is the mainspring in every thing, 
yet as regards the second instance above, rationalizing 
intellect, there are often influences springing purely 
from intelligence, which aid in the result. Thus: The 
five senses, whence intellect gets all its supplies, being 



THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 139 

naturally sharp and vigorous in any given case, and the 
intuitions of the Other senses being meanwhile weak, in- 
tellect hereby acquires more than its relative share of 
vigor. Add to this again that general intuition, besides 
its natural proneness to see every thing passing, is some- 
times stimulated to an immoderate pitch by curiosity, 
admiration, wonder, and perhaps other conspiring senses. 
Now then, if it happen at such a time that intuition 
strives to see a certain object which is impossible except 
through intellect, its extraordinary energy at such time 
will be more or less projected forth into intellect, not 
wholly unlike the way in which the smith projects his 
vigor into the right arm. 

It wT)uld be hard to tell precisely the final result of 
an often-repeated habit of this sort. Intuition might 
thus project the large proportion of its mechanical en- 
ergy at least into intellect, never once seeing that intel- 
lect in this way would by and by become a fitter instru- 
ment for being used as a make-believe heir apparent to 
the crown. 

King David's self was so projected into that of Ab- 
salom that he was ready to give his own life to redeem 
that of the rebellious son, though the latter had been 
forfeited in an attempt to overthrow the father. Some- 
what in the same respect, and as an illustration of the 
above thought, we see a King David and Absalom in 
Kant\s dialectics. His reason goes forth wailing and 
with strean)ing hair through the surging conflict, mainly 
anxious to protect and save a profligate intellect then in 
revolt against the parental government. As to the origi- 
nal prompting motive with Kant we have already seen, 
and something similar will rule in all cases. 



140 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 

Another and different kind of explanation for the 
overgrown importance of intellect is^ that, being mainly 
occupied with exterior objects, its exploits thereby in 
some sort become more conspicuous to observation, and 
consequently win more than their just share of merit. 
Going out into foreign parts, so to say, and returning 
with the merest trifle in the way of a new discovery, 
great parade is made throughout the mental economy 
over the newly-found wonder, something like the rejoic- 
ing over one stray sheep more than over the ninety-nine 
safe in the sheep-fold. 

Again, intellect being so supple and willing always 
to subserve the various whims and purposes of the 
senses, these latter, as if from gratitude or sycophancy, 
sometimes seem to vie with each other in petting and 
dignifying their common benefactor. Nor is this any 
stranger than the traits of the average dude, who takes 
more pride in his hands and feet — nay, in his very gloves 
and slippers — than he would in having a good reputation 
for moral integrity. 

Still other instances might be added to show how it 
is that intellect is often found out of its legitimate sphere, 
harmfully meddling with things altogether above its 
capacity. Let these as chief ones suffice, and, instead of 
others, let us rather take several striking illustrations of 
those already given. 

Being thoroughly rationalized, David Hume seemed 
dazed with astonishment at the great influence of the 
religious sentiment on society ; insomuch, he went on to 
say, men will accept any monstrous dogma along with 
religion sooner than give it up. Worse than all, reason 
can have no more influence in such things than a bulrush 



THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 141 

could have in stopping the tides of the sea. In all this 
Hume but indorses what is herein claimed, that sense and 
not intelligence is causal, and controls the world. This, 
however, he believed fully as applied to the rest of man- 
kind ; as for himself, he was governed by calm reflection. 

He failed to show, and perhaps did not claim for him- 
self a higher nature or origin than those of the human 
species. In default thereof, and according to his own 
doctrine, he too was governed by sense like other human 
beings, and not by calm reflection. Necessarily then, 
either ambition for notoriety, prejudice acquired in youth, 
or some such strong influence of sense, prompted in the 
outset to his position of hostility against religion, and 
having taken which position, he thenceforth employed in- 
tellect only as a club for fighting off all opposing senses 
and sentiments. There he stands in his infatuated isola- 
tion, and, in view of his sagacity, is justly an object of 
far greater astonishment to the rest of mankind than they 
were to him. 

He represents the second phase of rationalism indi- 
cated a few pages back ; his intellect was made to usurp 
the place of reason or intuitive cognition. The charac- 
teristic trait of his philosophy was an absolute rejection 
of every thing except extensive or physical principles 
and standards of reasoning, so that, no matter what his 
capacity might have been, he was by virtue simply of 
his method wholly incapable of handling any question 
above physics, and that too in a very restricted sense. 
The ear as lecturer on optics would fairly represent all 
his philosophical writings. Of course, his rationalism 
ended in materialism, while the two together culminated 
in an agnosticism which doubted matter as well as every 
thinsf else. 



142 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 

Two other noted characters, Fichte and Spinoza, 
may be mentioned in contrast as rather singnhu* illustra- 
tions of the question in hand. These were both remark- 
able men, learned and of highly philosophical powers. 
In • their respective and peculiar endowments perhaps 
neither has had a superior, while particularly as regards 
the higher aspects of philosophical ritualism no two 
other writers of any age or country ever understood it 
more thoroughly or emphasized it more fully in practice 
than Fichte and Spinoza; yet, with his severely critical 
method, Fichte utterly failed to find any God in the uni- 
verse, while Spinoza, with his equally infallible mathe- 
matical procedure, utterly failed to find any thing but 
God in the universe. Two such results from two such 
men ought to sufficiently show up the folly of taking 
leave of common sense altogether and yielding to the 
guidance of intellectual theorizing. 

Finally, those perplexing questions. What? Whence? 
Whither? will sooner or later knock at the door of every 
human heart. Accordingly a large number of persons, 
without once asking. What is the highest authority for 
me to consult on such grave questions? go straight to 
matter instead of to mind as the higher oracle of the 
two. Even this serious mistake would not be so wholly 
bad after all, however, if by w^ay of mending the blunder 
they W'Cre to take along common sense instead of dis- 
cursive intellect as interpreter of the very ambiguous 
oracle. In event of the second mistake, of course the 
result can only be rationalism wdth its consequent train 
of materialism, agnosticism, etc. 

Instead, when these midnight knockings come, a 
sober mind ouglit to reflect, that in vital respects matter 



THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 143 

at its best is very remotely related to this beautiful and 
mysterious voyage of human life. While as to intellect 
it has nothing at stake, regardless of what disaster may 
befall, and therefore has no business at the helm. In- 
deed, what except sensibility has any fears, hopes, loves, 
or other priceless freight on board ? Who then ought to 
be captain of the vessel ? 

As for the rest and after all, even if sense intelligence 
should finally fail to answer all the questions to the fullest 
degree, then there is at least one oracle which never 
fails, that is, conscience. But how can conscience an- 
swer such perplexing questions? Why, simply in this 
way and with the plainest English too : Be good ! Al- 
ways do your duty ! There now ! is a broad-sider, and 
all the questions are answered at once. As proof, they 
come back no more; or, if they do, instead of coming 
with a frightful midnight rapping, they rather come in 
the bright morning and come as heralds of good tidings. 

Conclusion to Paet II. 

A conclusion was added to Part I, intended to recall 
and supplement the two chapters on causality, as well as 
at the same time to point out one very important prac- 
tical inference therefrom. For similar reasons this con- 
clusion is here added, and especially to point out an infer- 
ence suggested by the distinction between the two species 
of cognition and their corresponding objects, as discussed 
in this Part II. The inference is this : Mind can neither 
progress nor retrograde essentially as often assumed. 

The said distinction says, that, besides the two species 
of cognition, there are also two corresponding kinds of 



144 THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 

objects of cognition — comparable and incomparable. 
That the incomparable kind are intensive only in respect 
of quantity ; hence, indivisible, simple, indecomposable, 
etc. It follows that such intensive objects are now just 
what they were at their beginning, and were at their 
beginning just what they are now in all essential re- 
spects. Accordingly mind, as one of the kind, is now just 
what it was essentially when first introduced in the world. 

For the sake of those who may not have fully under- 
stood the distinction, and in consequence may have doubts 
of said inference, this conclusion is intended to produce 
other self-evident facts, which will newly illustrate and 
prove both the distinction and the inference. 

The fact that Adam and Eve were full grown in mind 
at the start; that Minerva, the personification of wis- 
dom, sprang mature and in full armor from the head of 
Jupiter ; that all people, however savage, in one way or 
another trace their lineage directly back to the gods : these 
facts with many kindred ones are laughed at by the mate- 
rialist as absurd superstitions. He forgets that, even as 
superstitions, they none the less require explanation, 
being characteristic phenomena of mind as far back as 
we can see. With equal propriety he can set aside con- 
science, sexual love, or any other human trait, as a super- 
stition. These facts are introduced, not as proofs of the 
question in hand, but to remind the materialist that he 
still has these very sufficient nuts to crack before he can 
consistently set out at full speed with his ^' gospel of 
dirt." They are great empirical facts exhibited in the 
phenomena of mind, attested by history, tradition, my- 
thology, monuments, etc., and as such require facts and 
not sneers in explanation. 



THE SELF: AVHAT IS IT? 145 

Considered in the aggregate, mind is a congeries of 
powers and functions interlacing and interacting; mu- 
tual ly reciprocal and mutually dependent, the one upon 
the other; neither one being independent of the whole, 
nor the whole being independent of any one. As such 
it is a unified whole, incapable of division without 
destroying the integrity of the whole. 

It is upon this one point of nnified totality that the 
present question turns ; for if mind be a unified whole, 
or be found incapable of operating except as such, it fol- 
lows necessarily that it. could not have become what it 
is at present by piecemeal additions, it could not have 
groicn essentially. 

Elsewhere mind in its aggregate aspect has been 
discussed as indicating unified totality ; let it now be 
examined in some of its special aspects. That is, instead 
of the whole mind, let us consider its processes, its con- 
ceptions, as well as the objects on which it operates, and 
thus see that it is impossible for it to operate or acquire 
knowledge, except on the ground of an indivisible, uni- 
fied totality ; and which again will preclude the possibil- 
ity of its being a thing of piecemeal growth. 

There can be no mistake on the part of logicians in 
making the principle of identity the first element of all 
thinking and reasoning. There can be no thinking 
without an object to think, about. There can be no 
object until it is first identified. Being identified, noth- 
ing further can be known of it without analysis as the 
next step; that is, analysis of the object itself by putting 
its several aspects in antithesis, or by its antithetical rela- 
tions to another object distinct from itself. In short, 
analysis is necessarily the first process after that of iden- 



146 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 

tity. It is evidently impossible for synthesis to begin 
until after a real or an assumed analysis ; for as synthe- 
sis is but a joining of discordant elements into unity, 
such joining can not occur until said elements have first 
been disjoined by real or assumed analysis. 

It is hence a necessary procedure in all conceivable 
cases to begin operation on an assumed analytical total 
and thence proceed in its examination by analysis. To 
examine even a literal part of an object, said part must 
be assumed iii some sort as a whole, in order to divide 
and see its contents. There can be no exception. You 
can not synthesize parts until the parts have first existed 
by means of real or assumed analysis. To say that syn- 
thesis can not precede analysis is but equal to saying, 
you can not return from the post-office without having 
first been there. Precisely the same is true of induction, 
classification, generalization, etc. ; in neither case could 
the mind make one step without a real or assumed point, 
in which all the elements involved converge to a unified 
totality. 

These statements yield three sharply marked results : 
(1) In no event can mind act without some object to act 
upon. In analysis it begins with the object ; in synthe- 
sis, induction, etc., it proceeds to the object. This is but 
saying that to act without an object is to act without 
aim or purpose, and which would amount to insanity, or 
no action at all. (2) Said indispensable object is a whole 
or total object. Analysis always implies a real or as- 
sumed total object, which is to be divided into its several 
elements for inspection. Synthesis always implies the 
joining of said elements back into said whole or total. 
(3) Said whole object must logically precede its parts; 



THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 147 

that is, there can be no such thing as parts without an 
anterior whole ; and therefore synthesis — which is a 
joining of parts into a whole — can not occur until after 
a real or assumed analysis has divided said whole into 
said parts. 

These three plain and evident facts indicate certain 
laws of mind, and also a harmony between said laws and 
those of the objects on which mind acts, which, alto- 
gether, constitute a general order of things not to be vio- 
lated. Thus: We can not even think of an effect with- 
out a real or assumed cause j nor of parts without a 
whole ; nor of a circumference without a center ; nor of 
an ending without a beginning ; nor of a last without a 
first; nor of plurality without unity; and so on without 
end through the universal realms of both mind and 
matter. Then this procedure from analysis to synthesis, 
or from analytical totality to synthetical partiality, is 
precisely equivalent to proceeding from cause to effect, 
from whole to parts, from first to last, and points out a 
general order of things which pervades the universe. 
This general order is not a hap-hazard order, but har- 
monious and inviolable. 

This again is but the upshot of Plato^s sublime doc- 
trine of ideas, which requires that every thing should be- 
gin or grow out from some total-unit idea as its root ; and 
that said root involves every thing that ever can be in 
said thing. An oak can not spring from foliage, but 
from the acorn ; and the acorn must contain every thing 
contained in the oak. Besides, the acorn in its totality 
or wholeness must first exist, otherwise trunk, branches, 
foliage, etc., are literally impossible. 

And what is the upshot of all? Why, simply this: 



148 THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 

Every thing worthy of being called a positive reality, 
an abiding existence, was of absolute necessity a whole 
or total thing at its birth, else it could not have existed 
at all. Why? Because of the plain nndeniable fact 
that parts are impossible without an antecedent whole or 
total. We can not even think of parts without a real or 
assumed whole. The question ever recurs : Parts of 
what ? The answer can only be : Parts of a presup- 
posed whole. So, then, no reality could begin existence 
as a mere part. To assume that parts could exist an- 
terior to and independently of the whole or total thing 
of which they are elements is a monstrous outrage both 
to common sense and the harmonious order of the uni- 
verse. The illusion of mistaking symbols for realities is 
the only explanation of the amazing monstrosity. 

Seeing, then, that the order of the universe is from 
whole to parts, from cause to effect, from analytical total- 
ity to synthetical partiality ; and seeing that all the ideas, 
conceptions, and operations of mind are in conformity 
with said universal order, it would seem to follow that 
mind 'per se is a unit, total, or whole thing. Besides, 
it being plain that every positive reality was necessarily 
a whole or total thing at its birth, certainly mind also 
must have been a whole thing at its birth, unless we 
deny its existence as a positive reality. If allowed such 
wholeness or totality, it could not be a piecemeal manu- 
facture. 

But suppose we allow just the contrary : Mind was 
but the part of a thing at the first, and thence set out 
with a partial or synthetical procedure. Being only a 
part, it could not have wholeness or totality, either in its 
constitution, or in its processes, or in its conceptions; it 



THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 149 

could only conceive of and operate upon parts. But, as 
just seen, without a conception of whole there could be 
no conception of part ; and hence said partial mind could 
not even make a beginning. Evidently, as a partial 
thing, mind would be stark-blind. But, no matter, 
waive that disability. 

Then allow it capacity to conceive of a part. In the 
next place then, how could it first get said part? Cer- 
tainly not without intuition and identification. Then al- 
low it these powers also. But even with these powers and 
with said part as an object to begin with, the very next 
indispensable step would be analysis. A real or an as- 
sumed analysis necessarily precedes synthesis, just as 
whole necessarily precedes parts. Then allow it analy- 
sis also. But to do this would be to make it a whole or 
total thing at last, and which makes it plainly impossi- 
ble for mind to act at all, except on the assumption of a 
unified totality. 

In a few words, analysis begins with unity ; synthesis 
])roceeds to unity, else it is aimless and its action null. 
But these two processes, Avith their implications, repre- 
sent the sum total of reasoning; so that, if reasoning in 
all cases is impossible without unity, the mind must be 
unified or it could not reason at all. Or thus: Knowl- 
edge, as product of mind, is necessarily unified, else it is 
chaos or nothing. Being unified as product, its source 
must be unified. Or thus: As elsewhere seen, every, 
the simplest, intelligible thought necessarily involves 
thesis, antithesis, and synthesis ; so that mind could not 
through all the past have indulged in the least intelligi- 
ble thought without all of its present faculties and equip- 
ments of intelligence. 

11 



150 THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 

These plain and self-evident facts, with numerous 
others that might be added, show, in the first place, that 
it is a monstrous outrage to common sense and the gen- 
eral order of things to assume that mind was but a partial 
thing in the outset; and next, even assuming it as true, 
it is plainly impossible for mind to have made one single 
step in knowledge as a partial thing. It must necessarily 
have been a unified total in the outset, else nothing. 
Hence, the piecemeal theory is a monstrous and bare- 
faced untruth, insulting to mind, insulting to the harmo- 
nious order of the universe, and insulting to God withal. 

It may be objected that the foregoing statements are 
of an abstract kind. Besides, in view of their great im- 
plications, if they be true, then they ought to have 



EMPIRICAL CONFIRMATION. 

In turning to this aspect of the question it becomes 
amazing that the piecemeal theory was ever even con- 
ceived of. Only think, the first question of every child 
on reaching the period of thought is, " Mother, who 
made God?'^ instead of asking, according to the piece- 
meal theory, '^ Mother, what is the atom?'^ It is a great 
mistake to think that the child first begins by learning 
trifles — first begins with the little end or termini of 
things. In learning the unit and learning to count it is 
learning the foundation principles of arithmetic and 
mathematics. In learning A B C^s it is learning the 
foundation principles of all written knowledge. In- 
deed, the child is always occupied with foundation and 
not Avith the little ends or terminating elements of 
knowledge. 



THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 151 

The God idea too, logically considered, is the first 
and chief one addressing the attention of every man, 
whether wise or foolish ; as also of every nation, whether 
civilized or savage. How many of either class ever 
trouble themselves about atoms ? 

But take aggregate knowledge in its general develop- 
ment. After the God idea, then astronomy, the mother 
of all the sciences, was ever the next in order of develop- 
ment with all the earlier nations. The great principles 
of astronomy, being divided and subdivided again and 
again, give us the multitude of sciences now in vogue. 
These in turn may be doubled in number in the course 
of a hundred years, ever tapering out with increasing 
smallness. It was impossible to have been otherwise in 
view of nature's universal order. 

On the contrary, according to the piecemeal theory, 
knowledge, as a product of mind, instead of beginning 
with God, ought first to have begun with the atom ; 
then next with infinitesimal sciences, and thus proceeded 
on upward, more and more slowly as the sciences became 
ipore general, without even yet having reached the great 
ideas, astronomy and God. Such an order of develop- 
ment was obviously impossible, from the very nature of 
the laws of both mind and matter. 

But especially, to say nothing about the frightful con- 
flict between the mind and the universal order, on the 
assumption of the piecemeal theory, how are we to recon- 
cile the conflict simply between mind and its own prod- 
uct, knowledge? That is, if mind itself first started out 
developing synthetically, or little end foremost, ^then 
how is it that knowledge, the product of mind, started 
out on a directly reverse order, that is, analytically or 



152 THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 

big end foremost? Truly the question is too absurd to 
debate. 

Instead, the mystery now to be solved is this : Seeing 
that there could be no effect without a cause ; no last 
without a first; no part without a whole, how was it pos- 
sible for any one ever to think that mind as a partial 
thing could have existed prior to and independently of 
itself as a unified totality ? This is the answer : The 
simple but total unit conception, time-keeping, is the 
sole origin of the thing called watch or clock. This 
unit conception originates in mind ; and from it alone is 
deduced every element involved in time-keeping. As a 
pure product of mind, it is a unified, indivisible whole, 
like the mind itself 

But mark, though the 7'ecd watch made in the mind is 
a unified, indivisible whole, yet a symbol of this real 
watch may be manufactured from brass, silver, or other 
metal, which, consisting of parts, may be made and com- 
bined piecemeal or synthetically. 

Now then, this enables us to see just three mistakes, 
which comprise well-nigh the upshot of materialistic 
blunders. (1) Forgetting the real watch in the mind, he 
takes the symbol to be the reality. (2) Seeing that said 
symbol, consisting of parts, was made and put together 
piecemeal, he assumes that it was made by parts; and 
thus unconsciously, may be, reverses the causal principle 
by making 'parts the cause and whole the effect. These 
two first assumptions, which are false even as applied to 
physics, he makes doubly false by application to mind, 
on the false assumption that mind and matter are in the 
same category. Thus : a watch is made of parts, which 
parts are put together piecemeal into a whole: the parts. 



THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 158 

being first, are therefore the cause ; the watch as a whole 
being last is the effect. Of course the mind was made 
ill the same way, part at the time, until through many 
ages, all the parts being added, mind was the total effect 
as we now have it. 

These false principles he applies throughout physical 
nature both to animal and vegetable organisms. The 
physical body, which is a mere symbol of the man, he 
takes to be the reality; and, as the symbol is made by 
parts or piecemeal additions, so was the mind. So, like- 
wise, forgetting that the visible trees and all vegetable 
bodies are but symbols of the life-essence of their seeds, 
he takes them for the realities; and these symbols, being 
endless in number, give an endless illustration of his 
false assumptions. And though false even in physics, 
he applies them to mind and makes it also a piecemeal 
production. 

The real truth is, however, there is no such thing as 
growth in the piecemeal sense. (1) Extensive things, 
time, space, and matter, can not grow, for the simple 
reason that they have no life. Besides, being already 
infinite, it is hard to see how an infinite thing can grow. 
(2) Neither can intensive things grow. They may in- 
crease or decrease in intensity, but not grow. To grow 
by an addition of new parts, they would by and by cease 
to be what they were originally. This would destroy the 
principle of identity. But identity is the prime foun- 
dation of logic, and to destroy logic would be to destroy 
intelligence. Besides, if intensive things were to grow, 
they would after awhile equal, not to say supersede, God. 

Extensive things can never mount any higher than to 
a mere symbolism of intensive things. So-called growth 



154 THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 

of extensive things is but a s^^mbol of an increased en- 
ergy of intensive things. The growth of a tree^ for 
instance, is but a symbol of the increased energy of its 
life-essence ; the latter may be modified, but can not grow 
in the way of acquiring any essentially new element. 
The radii of a circle may be extended indefinitely, and 
thereby expand or grow ; but such growth is only sym- 
bolic or extensive. The circle can not grow intensively: 
expand it to infinity in the extensive sense^ and yet in 
the intensive sense it contains only the original proper- 
ties of simple circle. In a word, all so-called growth, 
whether of extensive or intensive things, amounts at the 
most to no more than simple modification; for otherwise 
there could be no such thing as permanent individuality, 
no specific identity, and hence existence would be but 
chaos. 

For all the illusions attachino; to this question we are 
indebted to our illustrious benefactor, discursive intel- 
lect. Our distinction shows that discursive intellect is 
the mischief-maker in this case just as it was in the an- 
tinomies ; it confounds symbolic or extensive things 
with real or intensive things. In so doing there are 
just three grand mistakes, which, to be more easily 
remembered, may be more concisely repeated thus : 
(1) The symbol is mistaken for the reality; (2) The 
parts of which the symbol consists become the means of 
reversing the causal principle — parts are made the cause 
and whole the effect; and (3) these first two mistakes, 
false even as applied to matter, are applied to mind as 
if it were the same with matter. These are the three 
great errors of rationalism and its consequent mate- 
rialism. 



THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 155 

It turns out then, after all, that Moses and the Greek 
poets were correct at least in principle respecting Adam, 
Eve, and Minerva ; that is, mind was full-grown at the 
time of its birth into the world. But how did Moses 
and the poets know this? Certainly either by inspira- 
tion or by common sense. But in either event it would 
be a sad compliment to modern progress, at least a sad 
compliment to the piecemeal philosophers w^ho have not 
yet found out truths which were self-evident to Moses 
and the poets thousands of years ago. 

Owing to a multitude of conspiring influences unnec- 
essary to mention, there has been great zeal in pursuing 
the physical sciences for a number of years past. As a 
natural result great developments have occurred in said 
sciences, and it would have been remarkable to have 
been otherwise. But progress in physical science does 
not necessarily imply an essential progress, nor a pro- 
gress even in other respects. A man might set out trav- 
eling in an eastward direction, yet he would meanwhile 
be going away from the west. So that we might pro- 
gress in physics without at the same time progressing in 
other respects. And since physical science is not the 
highest or most vital knowledge, an excessive progress 
in it might possibly be harmful under certain conditions. 

It is not claimed that mind can not progress or retro- 
grade in a certain sense within certain maximum and 
minimum limits, nor that it can not go forth in the pur- 
suit of all kinds of knowledge at once, nor that it may 
not yet in the future rise to a higher pitch than it ever 
did in the past, nor that there are not still a few princi- 
ples of knowledge never yet fully developed ; none of 
these are denied. But it is claimed most positively that 



156 THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 

mind has not now^ nor ever can have in the future with- 
out reconstruction, any essentially new principle not pos- 
sessed at the time of its birth into the world. Moreover, 
it is by no means certain that we of the present, all 
things being considered, stand any higher than some 
others may have stood in the past. In short, Solomon 
never said any thing wiser or truer than that " There is 
nothing new under the sun.^^ 

The foregoing facts respecting the essential sameness 
of mind go straight to confirm the principle implied in 
the distinction between the species and the objects of 
cognition. These facts and the said distinction mutually 
support each other, though coming from different stand- 
points; and both together, disinterestedly, ought to suf- 
fice as to the unified totality of the mind at least as 
regards intelligence. 

Nothing has been said about the unity of the senses. 
In the first place the question in hand, the piecemeal 
theory, refers only to intelligence, and in that respect 
only has been answered. As for the rest nothing is 
needed respecting the unity of sense. We can not con- 
ceive of one or of any number of senses except as be- 
longing to a Self; and if the Self be not a unified total- 
ity, then there is no such thing as unified totality. 

However, that sense is the Self and that the Self is 
unified, may both be seen at once in the single and re- 
markable fact that while the physical and intelligent 
powers go to decay in old age, sense on the contrary 
rather grows stronger, insomuch a man's ruling passion 
is strongest in death. By common consent a man is said 
to be just precisely what his ruling passion may be, and 
which one fact goes to prove the other two facts : (1) 



THE SELF : WHAT IS IT ? 157 

That sense is the Self, and (2) that all the senses are 
unified in one chief controlling sense or Self. 

But besides the theoretical, there is also a practical 
aspect of this question of the highest importance. Per- 
haps never at any time since the beginning has the world 
been more infatuated than now with the notion of an 
essential progress. It seems to be assumed on all hands 
that every thing is ready to be swept away and succeeded 
by something still better through the creative energy of 
this marvelous progress. It would not at all surprise 
some people if they should see in the newspapers that 
the old multiplication table had proved faulty and would 
be supplanted by a new one ; that circles had, in several 
instances, been positively seen turning into triangles ; 
that a new moral code is presently to be introduced; 
while, as to old-fashioned truth, virtue, etc., they are 
henceforth to be regarded as relics of barbarism. 

Harm and harm only can result from this blind and 
profligate tendency. If not a majority, at least an enor- 
mous element of our people stand ready to accept any 
Utopian scheme, any innovation, no matter how sui- 
cidal ; they are as ready for explosion as gunpowder is 
for the match. The growing opinion is that nothing 
stands firm ; every thing swings rootless in mid-air ready 
to be swept away by the next breeze. As a consequence 
reverence for God, morals, government, and all its offi- 
cials, grow less every day. The motto seems to be, the 
faster we pull down and destroy, that much the better; 
straightway something new and still better will grow up 
in place of the old. This growing and deplorable ten- 
dency grows directly out of the craze respecting our 
wild- fire progress. 

12 



158 THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? 

This infatuation, together witli the one indicated in 
the eonchision of Part I, viz : That intellectual educa- 
tion will necessarily make men better in moral respects, 
and therefore better citizens: these two infatuations with 
their implications, are two rocks easily seen by watchful 
eyes on the front horizon; and though not yet frowning 
much on account of their distance, they are still a sort of 
Scylla and Charybdis, between which the American Ship 
of State will have to pass, and that too before a great 
while. A good captain, a good pilot, and a sharp look- 
out generally by all on board are necessary in order to 
pass through with safety. 



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